


Loose Ends

by EndoratheWitch



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Vikings, Coma, Drinking, Dungeons & Dragons 4th Edition, F/M, Groundhog Day, Guitars, Holiday, Human AU, Kilts, Kitten, Marriage, Meeting the Family, Scotland, Sleeping Beauty - Freeform, Yoga, collage AU, drunk, flowershop au, prompts, unfinished works
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2018-05-04 19:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 30,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5345471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Stuff I have written but don't know what to do with it. Some of these I might continue with, others I have no idea. Most of this is unedited.<br/>Some of these will be prompts too.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Kick My Ass

**Author's Note:**

> Stuff I have written but don't know what to do with it. Some of these I might continue with, others I have no idea. Most of this is unedited.  
> Some of these will be prompts too.

Marianne stopped in front of the yoga studio, her mat under her arm as she narrowed her eyes. She looked up at the sign decorated in dark flowing letters and what looked like vines. “The Dark Forest.” 

She muttered, “Stupid name for a yoga studio.” 

She refused to be nice about this, Dawn had signed her up for yoga classes at this new place against her will in a sisterly attempt to get her to relax. For a moment, nasty, little hateful thoughts of sisterly revenge made Marianne smile, but they were quickly dismissed with another long suffering sigh. Dawn was only trying to help her get over Roland. Course, if she really wanted to help Marianne get over Roland, Dawn should hire a hitman to take him out... Fine, yoga, less destructive. 

Marianne stepped into the studio. She was immediately hit by the smell of sage and incense, which, despite her urge to fight it, actually did smell nice. Worse still, it was helping to loosen the knot in her chest. 

The lighting was dim, soft, urging customers and employees alike to relax. The soft music drifting through the studio, eased tense muscles and soothed raging minds. Damn, it was, sorta nice. Marianne made a face as she turned to the young man with the way too large glasses, who sat at the counter with a huge smile. 

Marianne huffed, fine this might actually help. “I was signed up for a yoga class, Marianne Summerfield.” 

The young man grinned “Let me see, Summerfield. Nice name!” He started tapping away on a computer, humming some song under his breath. Sounded like an Elvis Presley song. 

“Ah! Here we go, you are signed up for an eight week course. Oh! One of our more strenuous courses too, with King! Power Yoga!” The little man made a face, which suddenly caused Marianne to frown. He grinned at her and pointed down the hall. “Just right down that way then take a left.” 

She thanked him, heading in that direction. The hall was lined with soothing photos of deep forests and other dark, woodland places that evoked quiet and serenity. 

She turned, walking into a open room that had only a handful of people, five, which surprised her. She shrugged, taking a spot and rolling out her mat. There was one man, and three woman, all doing some warm-up stretches. Marianne wasn't really in the mood to make small talk, so she simply started going through her own warm up routine when the instruction walked in through a door at the front of the studio. 

When she saw him, her mouth dropped open. Not only was he tall, like Redwood tree tall, he was slim almost gaunt. He was wearing black fisherman pants and nothing else, topless and shoe-less. His dark hair was smoothed back from his angular face, though a few rebellious hairs refused to stay and were brushing his forehead. 

He had the longest nose she had ever seen on anyone before, but his most startling feature were piercing blue eyes in an unshaven face. He narrowed those same eyes as he glanced around the room. “I see you are the brave souls who have decided you have what it takes for my class. Good, let's see how long any of you last.” 

He sneered a bit, his accented voice rough and no nonsense, his eyes scanning the room in a challenge. Those blue eyes landed on her. Marianne glared right back, hands on her hips, a curled lip that would have done Billy Idol proud. He stared at her for a long moment, then the most amazing thing happened...he smiled at her. It was a cross between pleased, a challenge and a show of respect. Marianne grinned, she may have to thank Dawn after all.


	2. Coma

Marianne came into the patient's room. She looked crisp and professional in her nurses uniform, even with the purple highlights in her hair. She removed the dead flowers and checking the patients vitals. She checked his IV, straightened his blankets, and touched his arm. His monitor was beeping softly, his vitals unchanged. 

She moved to the side of his bed to roll him so he would not get bedsores. He was so thin that it was easy to move him. He had been brought in several weeks ago from a car accident. His only visible injury of note were the lacerations on his face that were going to leave deep scars on his features. He had been in a coma since he had been brought him into the hospital. The patient was tall, thin, with a prominent nose. She tilted her head to the side, watching him breath. He had nice lips. She wondered how he would look when he smiled. He was older than her by a good few years and there was evidence of crowfeet at his eyes. 

One time, when she had been in his room when his doctor was with him, she saw that he had blue eyes. He was so thin and pale, he almost seemed to sink into the bed as if he would disappear at any time. 

Marianne stepped closer, combing her fingers through his hair. It has not been cut since he was brought in and it was becoming mopey. She smiled softly, moving to run the backs of her fingers along his unshaven jaw. She wondered what his voice sounded like. His mother had a slight Scottish accent, she wondered if his voice was deep, what the accent might sound like from him when he spoke. 

His mother came in regularly to visit him. Griselda, his mother, would spend hours just talking to him, reading to him and even on rare occasions, Marianne would find Griselda singing to her son. 

Marianne spent a lot of time with the older woman, even going so far as coming in on her days off when she knew Griselda would be visiting her son. She would tell Marianne stories about Bog growing up. How Bog was a painter. He loved to paint landscapes though he use to paint figures before he has his heartbroken. Now his paintings were dark, Gothic and full of heartache. He was selling well but now his artwork had really taken off. His mother frowned, “They are probably waiting for him to die.” Griselda commented once, that his eyes and memory were so important to him. Marianne found herself, little by little, as the weeks went by, falling in love with a man who would probably never wake up. Griselda at one point brought her one of Bog's paintings. It was dark, a forest full of dark shadows and haunting trees but there was also something beautiful about it. She had taken the painting home and hung it over her bed. 

*** 

It was storming outside. The cold was bitter, the rain would be turning to snow and ice soon. Marianne was working the night shift ,doing her rounds on the quiet floor. Checking patients vitals, making sure everyone took their medication. She finally arrived at Bog's room. The room was dimly lit and he was resting, unmoving, as usual. She smiled when she saw him. She came in with the kit his mother had given her for trimming his nails, brushing his hair and a shaving his narrow face. Marianne pulled the hospital table over and setting everything down preparing to groom him before his mother's next visit. She sat on the side of his bed, pulling his hand onto her lap as she started to trim and file his nails. She hummed softly as she worked, occasionally telling him about her day, her plans on her next day off, just the things she would talk to a significant other about. 

After she finished with his one hand, she started on the other, speaking softly about her plans for the holidays coming up. She had just finished with that hand. She stroked his knuckles. 

“You have really nice hands. Definitely the hands of an artist. Your mother gave me one of your paintings. It's beautiful. She said you named it The Dark Forest. I hung it over my bed.” 

Marianne traced all his fingers slowly as she spoke. 

“I love how long your fingers are, so graceful.” 

That was when his hand twitched. She looked up to see him looking at her. She nearly fell off the bed in her haste to stand, dropping his hand. 

“Bog!! Bog!! Can you hear me??” 

He started to choke on his feeding tube. She rushed forward to assist him, hitting the help button as she began extracting the tube out, trying to calm him down. Another nurse came rushing in and Marianne yelled. “Get the doctor! He's awake!” 

Within moments the room was full as they got his tubes out. The doctor arrived to check his vitals and to see if he could speak, examine his eyes and ask him what he remembered. Marianne brought some chipped ice and notified his mother. 

After it was clear that Bog was stable, she came in to check on him after everyone had left. She smiled when she saw him sitting up. He looked weak and tired but he was smiling at her when she walked in. He had some color now, despite the dark circles under his eyes. 

“Hi Mr. King.” 

He looked a bit confused. “Mr. King? You were calling me Bog before.” 

She blushed, his voice was very hoarse but he did have the soft hint of an accent, as she set the cup of ice down, reaching for the spoon. She scooped up some ice as she sat on the side of the bed leading the ice to his mouth. His blue eyes followed her as he opened his mouth, she put the ice in. Bog was watching her as she went to take his blood pressure, checked his vitals. 

“Do we know each other?” 

She smiled at him and started to say something when there was a sound of someone clearing their throat. Marianne turned around quickly, her eyes going wide as she saw Roland standing there. 

“Hey Buttercup!” 

Bog looked confused as she patted his hand. “Excuse me for a moment.” 

She hurried over and grabbed Roland by his arm and yanked him out the door hissing. 

“What are you doing here? I'm at work and we are not engaged anymore!” 

Roland smirked. “Oh come on! I just came to talk to you. I figured it had been long enough that maybe you had cooled off and we could talk.” 

Marianne was trembling with rage. “Roland I have moved on! I am seeing someone else.” It was a lie but Roland did not need to know that. 

Roland snorted. “Oh please you live here at this hospital! How could you be seeing anyone?” 

Marianne blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. “That patient in there is my new fiancee! I have moved on from you Roland and I need you to leave. My fiancee has been hurt and he needs me. Now get out.” 

With that she turned on her heels and stomped back into the hospital room. Roland stood there glaring, his green eyes bore into Bog. 

Bog was staring at her as she came back into the room having heard the whole argument. 

“We're engaged?” 

Marianne stared at him then slowly smiled. “Yes, we are.” 

* 

She didn't get to say much more than that before Griselda showed up rushing in and nearly taking poor Bog right out of the bed as she embraced him. It was the perfect chance for her to get away, plus she had more work to do. She could not believe she just did that! Now what was she going to do? The next few hours busy with a stream of doctors going in and out of his room...


	3. Scottish Kiss

It was her wedding day. A day Marianne had dreamed about since that moment Roland had taken her hand. The radio alarm went off, Elvis singing, “I can't help falling in love with you...” She jumped up out of bed, her excitement giving her extra energy. They were having a destination wedding in Scotland, the whole wedding party was staying at a bed and breakfast run by a very nice little elderly lady name Griselda King. The place looked like a postcard of enchanted Scotland and the people had been very nice. 

Marianne made her way down the stairs, wearing only her white pajamas pants printed with pink hearts and a huge t-shirt that read THE BRIDE in pink glitter. Marianne was partway down when she ran head long into the chest of someone coming up the stairs. She started to fall backwards but large hands grabbed her arms stopping her backward fall. She looked up, up, up, into a very stern, angry, unshaven face with the most startling blue eyes she had ever seen. He snarled, his accent thick, 

“Ye should watch where the hell yer going!” 

She started to stutter an answer ,when she heard their hostess, Griselda, yell from the bottom of the stairs. 

“Bog stop scaring the guests!” 

Bog, she assumed, was the person holding her in place. He growled something under his breath, then let her go. 

“Just ye be more careful.” 

He placed her to the side of him, then he was pass her disappearing up the stairs. Marianne came the rest of the way down, Griselda was just setting out muffins and other breakfast foods, the smell of rich coffee filled the room, everything smelled fantastic. 

“You're the first one up dear. Don't let my son scare you. He is a big softy but he looks mean as anything.” 

Marianne grabbed a muffin, grinning “No problem. Where is everyone?” 

Griselda smiled “You are the first up dear.” 

Marianne ate a little breakfast, had some coffee, chatting with Griselda about her nuptials, as the others started to wake. All the girls came rushing down laughing and soon were all over the dinning area in their nightgowns and pajamas eating and talking excitedly. Few in moments some of the males members of the wedding party had made their way down as well. 

Marianne, laughing with her sister, decided to head upstairs. Roland was staying here too and she wanted to sneak in to wake her husband to be up. She wasn't in her dress yet, so she wasn't breaking any superstitious wedding rules as she slipped up the stairs, moving down the hall on tiptoe until she found Roland's door. 

Grinning, her hand over her mouth as she tried not to giggle, Marianne gently opened the door. She slipped inside Roland's room turning to ease the door closed. She moved like a thief toward the bed in the darkened room, thinking she would sneak up on him and pounce, when she stopped short. In the bed was Roland, asleep, but as her eyes focused in the darken room, she saw another figure. Marianne crept closer, her heart hammered in her chest, at the same time her whole body felt ice cold. She had just made it around the side of the bed with the mysterious figure. She reached out gingerly, pulled back the covers to reveal the figure beneath. 

Marianne stood still, like an animal caught in the sights of a hunter's rifle. Lying on the bed, naked, was her best friend Amber. She couldn't believe it, for the longest moment of Marianne's life she simply stared at the figure of her friend. Then, without a word, she simply turned and walked out, slamming the door as loud as she could as she exited the room. 

* 

The rest of the day was a blur, Marianne would later not recall a great deal of what was said.There was a great deal of yelling, confusion, lots and lots of anger, slamming of doors but the worst part was the crying. She threw her wedding dress out the window, punched Roland, threw something at Amber and eventually found herself, not walking so much as stalking, outside into the garden at the back of the bed and breakfast yelling that if anyone followed her she would break their face! Luckily Dawn was there to block any of the wedding party, especially Roland, from following her. 

Once outside, Marianne threw herself against the stone wall of the house, folding her arms over her chest with a snarl. She didn't notice the tall man hanging out in the shadows, a slowly dissipating cloud of cigarette smoke around his head. He didn't say anything, he only stared sideways at her. He was leaning against the house, one hand in the pocket of his jeans. He took a long drag on his cigarette, blowing out the smoke slowly. When she didn't seem to notice him, he cleared his throat, in a thick accent asked. 

“Would ye like a cigarette?” 

Marianne nearly leapt off the wall, startled and put a hand to her rapidly beating heart. 

“How long have you been there?!” 

He shrugged. “Not long, wanna a smoke?” 

She took a steadying breath. “I don't smoke.” 

He snorted holding his cigarette with his teeth as he grinned before taking it out. 

“Maybe you should start after that clusterfuck in there.” 

She chuckled a bit. “Yeah, maybe.” 

“How about you and I go get a drink at the pub. Get you away from all this?” 

She looked at him, tilting her head as she examined him. He was attractive in a rough and tumble sort of way. 

“Bog right? That's what Griselda called you? I'm Marianne.” 

He took a long drag then nodded. 

“Aye, Griselda's my mum. I have the room in the attic. Ye were the bride correct?” 

“Yeah, was the bride.” 

Marianne stared at him for a heartbeat, then she nodded, seeming to make a decision. 

“A drink sounds good.” 

He grinned showing off crooked teeth as he pushed away from the wall. “Alright then. Follow me. 

* 

The pub was a cozy local drinking place that surprisingly was open this late in the morning. As they walked in, the place smelled of age, drink and home cooking. Bog led her to a booth in the back, then ordered to shot glasses, a bottle of whiskey along with a plate of eggs and sausages. She couldn't remember exactly how it all began, but it was like a scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark. 

They had both put money down on the table as they stared hard at one another each with a smirk. Marianne reached out and took her shot glass, staring into blue eyes before she knocked it back in one gulp. The little crowd around them cheered for the American. 

Bog snickered, refilling her shot glass before picking up his own. Marianne grinned, watching him with twinkling, slightly intoxicated brown eyes. They had been drinking for the last hour, the eggs and sausages consumed. She had started feeling the booze, which was just great because she wasn't feeling the pain any more of Roland's betrayal. 

Plus that smirk of Bog's was becoming more and more kissable by the minute. Bog lifted his shot glass, gave her a little a salute, then downed it. Another cheer went up. Marianne reached for her glass, for a moment she stared at the glass. Then she started to giggle. Once she started she couldn't seem to stop. Bog blinked drunkenly, staring at her confused, then he started to giggle too. Money was exchanging hands as the two began to giggled even more. Marianne managed to get the shot glass to her mouth, giggling so badly she was sputtering the alcohol, but she got most of it to her mouth and down her throat with only part of it going down her chin.. Bog took the next shot of whiskey staring at the glass drunkenly for a moment. He was grinning laughing again as he brought it to his lips, giggling but he finally got all the liquid down. 

They were about to take their next shots, when the pub door flew open followed by Dawn. 

“Oh my gosh Marianne!!!” 

Dawn could only stare as she saw her very drunk sister, with a very drunk guy, both of them laughing so hard that they fell out of the booth. The two drunks both wobbled to her feet with the help of the crowd. Marianne wrapped herself around Bog, who put his arm around her shoulders holding onto her weaving their way toward Dawn. That was when the pub doors opened and Roland walked in. Marianne's drunk gaze settled on the blonde ass, 

“You motherfucker!” 

Marianne pushed patrons out of her way, dragging Bog with her. When she got close enough, she let go of Bog to throw a sloppy punch at Roland. Roland gasped in surprise just barely managing to duck in time. Bog grabbed Marianne pulling her back. 

“Let me tough girl...” 

Roland started to say something but even drunk Bog was a good brawler, his fist connected with the American's face knocking Roland flat on his back. Marianne drunkenly whooped her approval throwing herself into Bog's drunk arms, the two of them giggling like school kids. 

“You are so awesome!!” Marianne leaned into Bog a goofy drunken grin. Bog returned her drunken grin with his own. “Can I kiss ye touch girl?” 

Giggling Marianne sighed “Oh yeah please do!”


	4. Drunk

She had seen him earlier in the bar. Marianne had been there with Dawn and a couple of other friends just to hear Sunny's band play. This guy has been sitting alone at the end of the bar, a whole bottle of Jack Daniels in front of him with a shot glass. He had looked as if at some point during the evening he had been crying. Later that night, when she saw him, he looked ill, sitting on the curb, his long ass legs bent, head hanging between them, his arms resting on his knees like he was a puppet on the verge of collapse. 

She wasn't sure what it was about the guy, he just looked as if he needed a friend, so she pulled over. “Need a lift?” She had buzzed the window down, leaning over, directing her question to the top of his head. He looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot, the light from the streetlamp casting shadows on his face, but when he lifted his eyes she saw the hint of blue in the shadows. 

“Ye think that safe?” 

He didn't slur his words too badly which she thought was amazing after the amount of hard drink she had seen him throwing down. She smiled, “I think the fact that you asked that question means I am probably safe. Plus I'm sober and I'll kick your ass.” 

He snorted and started to laugh. “Okay tough girl.” 

He stood up, swaying a bit. Marianne got out of the car quick,y coming over to catch the tall tree of a man before he fell back on his ass again, or worse. She lead him over to her car, pulling the door open and shoving him inside. She came back around, leaning over to belt him to the seat. By the time she got the car started, he had passed out. She sat there staring at him, then sighed, fine, she would take him home. He looked rather adorable in his passed out state, which was saying something considering how drunk he was, most drunks were not adorable. 

Getting him into her apartment had been an adventure all on its own, as he was all arms and legs. He sung drunkenly in Gaelic, one of his arms sloppy hanging around her shoulders. His attempts at helping her get him up the stairs of her apartment building would have been funny if he wasn't so drop dead drunk, but every time he slipped he would apologize. She was giggling by the time she got to her apartment door. He grinned at her, showing charmingly crooked teeth, and sweet blue eyes. 

“Yer so pretty.” He muttered. 

“Why canna not find a girl who could love me? Oooh... I am too hideous to love..that's why she dumped me. No one could love me. Says so herself...too ugly...too much a silly romantic...what's that even mean?” 

“You are not hideous.” she whispered. 

“Aye! I am horrible, ugly, awful man.” 

He sucked in a breath and she knew he was on the verge of tears again. “You really loved her didn't you?” She manged to balance him as she worked the key in the door. “I thought I did, aye...” He slipped a little, almost taking her with him, but she kept him on his feet. 

“Maybe I was just desperate...” he sighed heavily as Marianne pushed the door open with her foot after getting the knob loose before dragging him in. She kicked the door closed, then partly led and drag him to her couch. She dumped him on it so she could go back and lock the door. When she turned around, he had his head in his hands. She could tell by the break in his voice he was crying just a little. “My mom says she doesn't want me dying sad and alone...I donna think I have a choice.” 

Marianne came over to sit down next to the strange man she had picked up, finding herself rubbing her hand along his back to comfort him. “What's your name?” 

He looked at her through his fingers, his voice slightly muffled. “Bogart, but my friends call me Bog.” 

She smiled, running her hand along his back. “I'm Marianne. Why don't you get a good nights sleep okay?” 

He nodded. She got up, going into her bedroom to grab some blankets, only to find he had fallen asleep, sitting back on the couch looking very uncomfortable. She sighed, moving him so that he was lying down on his side. He didn't make a sound or movement as she stretched out his legs, pulled off his boots before covering him up. She looked down on him letting out a heavy sigh. She was so stupid, but he looked innocent enough. She was not kidding about being able to kick his ass. She gave him a chaste kiss on the forehead going to bed, locking her bedroom door, she didn't know what it was about the guy but she wanted to make him happy for some weird reason.


	5. Glasses

Bog sat up so quickly that he slipped out of the bed landing hard on the wooden floor. 

“Ow! Damn it.” He muttered. 

He heard her scream, he was sure of it. Bog got to his feet, blindly feeling around for his glasses until he felt them on the bedside table. He shoved them on, not thinking about the fact that he was only wearing boxer shorts. He grabbed the keys off the hook as he left his apartment. He moved swiftly over to Marianne's apartment door, drumming his knuckles against the wood. 

“Marianne?” 

He leaned against her door listening. Marianne had moved in a few weeks ago, but in that time they had started to develop a friendship. They shared lunch together on the weekends, they talked nearly everyday. Bog was starting to slowly work up the nerve to ask her out on a real date. Since she had moved into the apartment building, Marianne had woken him up from a dead sleep a handful of times. He had heard her scream or cry during the night with no idea what to do. Bog had tried asking her about the nightmares once. He had tried to broach the subject without letting her know she woke him up with her cries, but he had hit a brick wall. 

He knocked gently. There was no answer. He knocked again. That was when he heard a cry accompanied by a muffled scream. Bog looked worried as he fumbled with the key she had given him, in case of emergency. 

Bog got the door open. He hurried in looking for danger, just in case he was wrong about this being a nightmare and there actually was an intruder. The place was dark, the only light was from the streetlamps and passing cars outside. Bog made his way to her bedroom when he heard another muffled cry. He raced into the room to find she was alone, thrashing in her bed. Bog dropped down to his knees reaching for her. She was crying in her sleep. He pulled her closer, she fought him, but he wrapped his arms around her, holding on. He move from beside the bed getting onto the bed, lying down next to her. Bog pulled her against him holding her tightly. 

“Shhh...its okay you're safe.” He whispered softly. 

He held her tightly until she stopped struggling. She settled down, her arms bunched up against his chest. He slowly stroked her short hair, his long fingers calming her as he held her against him. He started singing under his breath, just a little lullaby, when her breathing returned to normal. He could feel her relax in his arms before he heard a voice, muffled against his chest. 

“Bog?” 

“Yes?” 

“Are you naked?” 

Bog signed heavily. “No I have my boxers on.” 

Marianne shifted. Bog loosened his grip on her so she could move to look up at him. He leaned back slightly to glance down at her, his glasses having slipped to the tip of his nose. Marianne frowned. “You wear glasses?” 

Bog smirked. “Aye, I usually have contacts on.” 

She smiled at him. “I like the glasses. They are very sexy. You should wear them more often.” 

The blush that spread across Bog's cheeks ran down his neck turning him bright red. 

Bog murmured softly. “Okay.”


	6. Stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Person A, noticeably disheveled as they enter the room: Sorry I’m late, I was doing stuff  
> Person B, also disheveled and grinning smugly: I’m stuff

Dawn opened the door with a smile when she saw it was Griselda. “You made it!! Bog said he wasn't sure if you were going to or not?!” 

The older woman laughed. “Miss Christmas eve with you guys? Never!” 

Dawn linked her arm with Griselda's, walking her into the living room where Sunny, Pare, Lizzie and Plum were all playing a game of jenga at the living room table. Griselda glanced around as Dawn headed off into the kitchen to grab her a beer. 

“Where are Bog and Marianne?” 

Sunny looked embarrassed. 

“Well, Bog said he had stuff he needed to do upstairs and that he would be right back. I guess Marianne went to check on him but she hasn't come back yet.” 

Griselda was about to ask another question when she heard the sound of hurried feet coming down the stairs. She turned, to see Bog come around the corner, his hair sticking up every which way as he pulled his sweater down as if he had just slipped it on. He looked up with a grin. “Oh hey mom!” 

Griselda gave her son a smirk. “I heard you had some stuff to take care of?” 

That was when she heard a second pair of feet on the stairs. Marianne came around the corner, her hair equally disheveled, her shirt on backwards. Griselda glanced at her shirt causing Marianne to look down at herself. She giggled sheepishly as she pulled her arms through the sleeves to switch it around. 

Griselda lifted a brow at Marianne who smirked. “I'm stuff.”


	7. Play me a Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unedited

Marianne was sitting on the couch in Bog's apartment wearing one of Bog's t-shirts, shorts and some socks. She was lying on her back with one leg crossed over her knee bouncing her foot in time to the music on the stereo. She had a note pad with lyrics written across the page. Bog was cooking in the small kitchen she could hear the low sizzle of meat in the pan under the sound of the music. He was occasionally glancing back over at her nervous as she read his lyrics. That and getting to look at her legs was nice too. He finished with the meat, draining it that set about cooking the noodles and sauce for dinner. He was busy for a moment and didn't notice her coming up behind him to wrap her arms around his waist laying her head against his back. He noticed she didn't have the notebook with her. 

He carefully turned around to put his arms around her. “So what did you think?” 

He sounded so nervous as she looked up lying her chin on his chest. “They are brilliant! When can I hear you sing it?” 

Bog blushed kissing the top of her head. “After dinner?” her grin widened. Bog shrugged. “Sure.” 

After dinner and cleaning Bog stepped outside the apartment to have a cigarette. Marianne waited but jumped onto the couch ,wrapping her arms around her legs and flipped through a book she was reading. He came back in and with a wink at her headed into the bedroom to get his acoustic guitar. He sat on the edge of the couch, strummed and tuned the instrument before he started to play. He closed his eyes and started to sing softly. Marianne sighed tilting her head against her arm listening as he sang the words, so beautiful. His voice always did things to her, made her blood run hot and butterflies in her stomach come to life. He opened his eyes to take a peek at her. She looked so beautiful listening to his song, a song he wrote about his love for her. 

When he finished she clapped. “Oh Bog that is gorgeous!!! I love it! You guys should perform it at your next gig.” Bog huffed setting his guitar down. “We're a cover band right now. No one books us for our original stuff.” Marianne moved over and took his arm putting it around her. “Maybe you guys should start trying to book gigs as a band band.” Bog snorted. “Band band?” 

She elbowed him. “You know what I mean.” 

He chuckled absently strumming his guitar. “Maybe. You want to hear some of my other ones?” 

She smacked him hard in the shoulder. “Damn it BOG!! We have been dating for three weeks and you are just now sharing this with me!” She folded her arms over her chest with a pouty look, going so far as to stick her lip out. Bog grinned putting his guitar aside and pouncing on her. She squealed trying to fight him off but he started to tickle her sides. 

“Forgive me please!” he begged as he tickled her making Marianne wiggle and squirm. “BOG STOP IT!!” 

He laughed laying on top of her so she was trapped under him his long fingers still able to find her ticklish sides. “Forgive me lass!” He nibbled her neck until she finally, laughing groaned. “Fine I forgive you!” 

He grinned down at her and she leaned up to capture his mouth with hers. His eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his mouth to hers. She moved her hands so that she press them against his sides where his t-shirt had ridden up. Marianne smiled against his mouth she loved how warm his skin was, how he felt laying against her.


	8. Anger Managment

Marianne could not believe she had to go to court ordered anger management classes!! She was perfectly capable of managing her anger on her own thank you very much! So she had lost her temper, so she had hit Roland, and his girlfriend and the cop...Okay, maybe the judge had a point. 

She sighed as she parked her car in front of the building. It was only a few weeks, part of her probation. 

She headed down to the basement following the directions she had been given until she heard the sound of voices. She finally arrived at a room with the door left open to see a group of people on folding chairs sitting in a circle. 

The councilor, a nice looking older woman wearing what could only be described as a lavender granny dress from right out of the 1960's, stepped forward holding out her hand. 

“Ah, you must be Marianne Summerfield! I'm Dr. Plum! I lead our little group of merry misfits!” 

That was when Marianne heard a muttered, accented reply. 

“Ain't any of us merry. That's why we're here.” 

She turned to see a tall, thin man with a gruff face, looking like he was going to slip right out of the chair where he had his long legs spread out before him, his long, thin arms folded over his chest. His startling blue eyes met hers. He quickly went from snarling to surprised and embarrassed pushing himself to sit up straighter. 

“Uh, I mean, well, we're all here for anger issues. Not any of us is very merry exactly.” 

Marianne chuckled. “No, you're right, we are not merry people.” 

That was when he grinned at her, a rather nice grin at that. 

The meeting was boring as hell except for the Scottish guy who kept making wise cracks the entire time even when he was called on to tell the group why he was there Oddly his reasons were not much different than her own Caught his girlfriend cheating on him, slugged the guy, pushed her, hit the cop. It was almost exactly her story. They both exchanged glances sharing a mutual gaze of the betrayed.


	9. Today's Forecast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was going to write this as a Groundhog Day AU but I don't know if It will go beyond this. Feeling pretty low about my writing lately.

Bog ground his bottom teeth against his top teeth, a very bad habit he had had since he was a kid.  He sat in  the passenger seat of the van listening to Sunny, his camera man, and Dawn his new producer, chatting back and forth with far more enthusiasm than the day required. He put his chin on his long fingered-hand glaring out the window. He did not always like his job of reporting the local news. The studio sent him on a wide variety of news stories, usually the grimmer the better because of how he looked. Tall, lean, dark and scary. 

Bog rolled his eyes, this time he was going to cover the groundhog. He had his new producer to blame for this new assignment. The hyper little thing had convinced the studio to send him to this stupid little town outside the city, to cover the groundhog and its stupid weather predictions 

He thought he might get eye strain from rolling his eyes so much, but there it was...she had smiled so much that it made his face hurt just looking at her.  She said it would be good to change his image, to show his “friendly” side. Bog did not have a “friendly” side. 

Dawn was extra excited because her elder sister lived in this horrible little town. This sister was going to be putting the three of them up for the weekend in her home. Bog figured she was probably some weird, old spinster sister who owned one too many cats. He hated cats, the sneaky little shits. 

So here he was, listening to Sunny and Dawn awkwardly flirt with one another as they drove to the ass-end of nowhere to watch a rodent predict the weather. 

Where they were also going to force him to try and be cheery, to smile...and  spend the weekend with a weird cat-lady in training. Really? What was this producer  thinking? Sending him? He was the guy they sent to cover death and destruction. Hell! he had the face of a mortician! Bad news was the only thing he was good at reporting! 

Sunny pulled off the highway as Dawn squealed. “We're here!!!”


	10. Moving In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really old one I wrote, one of my first strange magic human au

Marianne lifted the heavy cardboard box out of the back of her compact car with a loud “Umph!” 

She stumbled a bit then set it down gently on the curb and wiped her brow with the back of her hand, messing up her already wind blown hair from driving with the windows down. Her new apartment was up on the third floor of the deluxe apartment building behind her. She had just moved out of her old place, much smaller and less fancy than this new place, but it had been hers. Later she had shared it with Roland before she realized what a selfish pig he was. Marianne had to move out of her old place after she caught her Roland with another woman on the couch. Her couch!! She would have burned it with him on it if it wouldn't have gotten her arrested. Instead she threw a vase at him and moved out leaving him with the rent and the stupid couch. 

Marianne shook the memory out of her head and picked up the box containing a few things Dawn and Sunny had gotten out of the apartment for her. She headed to the stairs, forcing her mind to thoughts of decorating a new place. 

Marianne had to do the move on her own. Dawn wanted to help with her boyfriend Sunny, but Marianne refused; it would be out of their way and they had done enough going over there and rescuing the few things she wanted so that she didn't have to look at Roland and listen to his whining to try to win her back. Plus, being alone seemed like the best solution for her troubled thoughts right now. 

As she started up the stairs, she glanced at the elevator only briefly entertaining the idea of the easy way up, but then she avoided the elevator, liking the idea of stretching her legs. Besides carrying the boxes up the stairs might help her strengthen her arms in case a certain ex-fiancee were to show up. 

By the time she got to the last flight of stairs she was beginning to rethink her impromptu work out when her box bumped into someone who let out a curse in a thick accent. Marianne looked over the top of the box to see a very tall, lanky man with a long sharp nose staring at her, his hands on her box. He stood there, a guitar over his shoulder, his black hair stuck up around his head as if brushing it was not something he concerned himself with on a daily basis. 

He had amber studs in each ear and since he was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt and black jeans, she could see that both arms are covered in tattoos. The stranger grabbed the box and managed to reach around, grabbed her arm to prevent both from falling backwards down the stairs. The stranger did not look at all like the type to live in this apartment complex. The complex was high end, with its own garden, pool and even a restaurant on the lower floor. The people that came in and out were wealthy, and dressed accordingly—like her father—who helped her get the place. No, this tall, dark man did not seem to fit the sort of people that a place like this catered to. 

The tall stranger was deceptively strong as he moved both her and the box onto the landing. 

“You alright?” He looked down at her scowling only slightly as if it was an expression he usually had on his face ,but when he saw her he was not sure whether scowling was the appropriate response. 

Marianne was struck by how blue his eyes were, like a cloudless spring sky, as he stared down at her. 

“Yes, thanks, but I could have handled the box.” 

The tall stranger snorted. “Fine, tough girl, then I won't offer to help.” 

Marianne made a face, “I'm tough, not stupid. Sure, I will take the help.” 

The stranger grinned and nodded. “ Name's Bog.” 

Marianne raised an eyebrow at the odd name, but only said, “Marianne.” He grinned, “Come on, tough girl.” Marianne had to admit that with Bog's help the move went much faster. 

Bog helped her move everything into her apartment while carrying his guitar on his back the whole time and never broke a sweat. 

Marianne learned that her apartment was across the hall from Bog's apartment. She also learned that he had lived here for over a year. 

Later, when they were finished with the boxes, Marianne invited him to dinner, her treat, but with a blush gracing his cheeks—which shocked her—he said, “I can't stay but thank you.” 

He smiled shyly, which she found surprisingly endearing, then he waved over his shoulder as he took the stairs and disappeared. Marianne smiled to herself. For looking like a hoodlum, as her father would have said, he was more polite to her in that short time than Roland had ever been. 

She did not see Bog for a few days after the initial meeting. Marianne was home, angry and trying to fight back angry tears. Roland had showed up while she was visiting with her father and it just fell apart from there. She could not believe her father invited him over or the nerve of Roland for even coming. The visit had ended with Marianne hitting Roland so hard that he landed on his ass. She smiled slightly at the memory, but her satisfaction was stained by the look her father had given her as Marianne had stormed out. Marianne was pacing her living room trying to figure out what to do with herself and how she was going to forgive her father when she caught the sound of singing and the gentle strumming of a guitar muffled by the walls. 

She tilted her head. The song was one she recognized by Opeth. “Harvest,” she thought, one of their softer songs. Whoever was singing had just enough of a lilt to their voice that it made shivers run through her blood, dancing across her skin. Marianne stepped outside her apartment and immediately realized where the sound was coming from, across the hall. 

She stared at the door and then she leaned her ear against it. It was indeed coming from Bog's apartment. It was Bog playing and singing. 

Marianne felt her heart race as she raised her hand, folding her fingers to knock, but she only pressed her knuckles against the door, then leaned in against the wood of the door and simply laid her whole body against it and listened to his voice. 

Marianne closed her eyes and let his voice and the strumming of the guitar move over her like a healing balm, calming her soul. She was still leaned against the door not having noticed that the music had stopped when it suddenly flew open. Marianne toppled into a surprised Bog who grabbed her, halting her forward momentum. They looked at one another, Bog's hands on her on her upper arms, her hands against his chest. He looked down at her. His clear blue eyes wide with surprise, but there was something else there, something she could not put a word to. Bog stared down, held her there against him, startled, but unable to let go of her. Bog swallowed, “Hello, tough girl.” Marianne grinned. 

“Hi.”


	11. New Boyfriend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an Unedited prompt from over xmas

“I don't think it is a good idea.” 

Bog was lying on his back in bed, with Marianne nestled against him as he made his statement to the empty room. 

“Its a great idea!” She sat up, the sheet falling away. She sat on her knees, still naked from last evenings love-making. Bog smirked letting his eyes roam over her. She saw his heated look and smacked him on the chest. “Hey pay attention!” 

Bog snorted when she hit him. “Well put some clothes on then I can listen!” 

Marianne grabbed her pillow, bopping him with it. Bog laughed putting his hands up trying to defend himself before he managed to get his own pillow in order to fight back. The conversation was forgotten as their naked pillow fight turned into something else even more fun. 

Later, they were at the breakfast table in her small apartment. Well, it wasn't her apartment anymore. She had asked Bog to move in weeks ago, so now they were roomies. It had been well over a month and she was happier than she could ever remember being. 

At the breakfast table, Marianne was ignoring her bowl of cereal in her attempt to persuade Bog that going to meet her family over the holidays would be great. 

Bog sipped his coffee, setting it down with a groan, his accent thick. 

“Marianne, it's the holidays, you donna want to ruin it by bringing yer ugly foreign boyfriend.” 

Marianne stopped with her spoon partway to her mouth. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. 

“You did not just call yourself my ugly boyfriend.” 

Bog went silent, oh no, he crossed that line she told him about whenever he said something negative about himself. He still had difficulty not putting himself down, even though she had made him so damn happy. Whenever he spoke like this, Marianne got upset. 

“Sorry. It's just that...Marianne I am not exactly what anyone wants their daughter to bring home.” 

Marianne got up, coming around the table to sit in Bog's lap. 

“You are wonderful. You are sweet, kind, and gentle not to mention intelligent, fantastic in bed and have a sexy ass. AND you're employed!” 

The blush that crept up Bog's face was adorable. “I'm a musician not a lot of people see that as employed.” 

She kissed him, rubbing her nose against his, 

“I adore you Bog, I love you, and they will too.” 

Bog sighed, knowing he should just give up. He would do anything she wanted. “Fine. I just don't want you getting upset when they don't like me.” 

Marianne squeaked with happiness, sounding a bit like her sister Dawn, whom Bog had only ever spoken to on the phone. “Thank you! And they will love you guaranteed!” 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him all over his sharp face until he was laughing and holding her tightly. 

Two weeks later ,it was Thanksgiving, a holiday Bog never really understood. Americans were weird but there it was. Marianne told him to forget all the history bullshit he had heard and just think of it as a celebration of family. The snow had begun to fall in light fluffy flakes when they pulled up to a surprisingly big house. 

Bog leaned forward, his hands tight on the steering wheel, looking out the front windshield cursing under his breath “Fucking hell!” 

Marianne pressed her lips together embarrassed. She had never really told Bog how much money her family had. Her father was the head of a major international corporation. 

Bog took a breath as if readying himself for battle. For a brief moment he thought it was probably good that he wore all black, doesn't show blood stains. Marianne put her hand on his shoulder. “It will be fine Bog, I promise.” 

His blue eyes glanced sideways, a slight smirk on his lips. Marianne chuckled. “Okay come on you great Scottish tree!” 

Marianne's knocked on the door, which was thrown open as a bright, hyper ray of sunlight crashed into Marianne. Bog stumbled out of the way as Marianne embraced the blonde creature. 

“Marianne!!! You made it!!!” 

Marianne laughed, “Hey Dawn.” Dawn hugged her sister tightly before she turned her eyes on Bog. “Is this him?!!” 

Marianne grinned, her cheeks rosy, her eyes twinkled, as she looked at Bog. 

“Yeah this is my boyfriend Bog.” 

Bog barely had time to catch her, as Dawn threw herself at him. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, burying her face against his chest. 

Dawn's voice was muffled against his sweater. “ I am so glad you came! I only ever got to talk to you on the phone!! You have made my sister so happy!” Bog patted her back awkwardly, but he was smiling. 

“Ah, thank you?” 

Dawn looked up, laying her chin on him with the biggest grin. She let him go, only long enough to grab his hand and her sister's, pulling them into the house. 

The inside of the house was gorgeous. High ceilings, a wrapping staircase leading up to the upper floors. There was even a fucking chandelier in the hall?? Bog knew his eyes were huge, as he looked around, the damn place looked right out of a magazine. Bog's eyes went to Marianne, who smiled embarrassed. 

Dawn gave them enough time to get their coats off before she was holding Bog's hand again, dragging him into the dining room. Marianne could not help but giggle. Dawn had latched onto Bog, which was a wonderful sign. She had never been like this with Roland. 

The dining room table was already set up, the smell of cooking turkey filled the air. She lead them through to another room, that was clearly a living room, with one of the largest flatsceen televisions that Bog had ever seen. 

There was an young man sitting on the floor, nervously holding a game controller. Another abandoned controller beside him. Sitting in a recliner, reading a book was an older man, distinguished looking, with white hair and a neatly trimmed white beard. The way he held himself, wearing simple slacks and a white button shirt, he was clearly a man of power, one use to respect. 

“Sunny! Looks whose here!” 

The young man waved nervously. “Hey Marianne.” 

Dawn, still holding Bog's hand grinned. “Sunny, Dad, this is Bog! Marianne's boyfriend!” 

Sunny grinned. “Hey man!” 

Their father put his book down slowly, his eyes taking in Bog, starting from his head down to his boots then back up again. the look that crossed his face was both sour and resigned. 

“So you are my eldest daughter's boyfriend.” 

Bog glanced at Marianne as he muttered. “Aye sir.” 

Marianne's father stood up, with only a slight effort. “So Bog...” He managed to say this short statement with a great deal of loathing. “What is it you do?” 

Marianne started to say something but Bog reached out squeezing her hand. 

Bog took a deep breath controlling his urge to snap back. “I'm a musician.” 

Her father's face managed to become even more stern “A musician?” 

Bog pressed his lips together. “Aye. I write music professionally and I play professionally. I make very good money because I am good at what I do.” 

Bog's eyebrows came down in a challenge but Marianne hands moved up to Bog's arm. “Hey why don't we open a bottle of wine?” 

Bog and her father glared at one another as Marianne pulled Bog with her to the kitchen. “Come on! You should meet our cook, my aunt!.” 

Marianne quickly took Bog into the kitchen where they found a slender woman with a wild top of hair. The woman was humming and singing along to her own music, a song only she could hear. 

The kitchen looked chaotic with dishes of food, and ingrediants were everywhere on every surface. The woman with the hair was wearing the most obnoxiously purple, frilly apron, as she set about making Thanksgiving dinner. She turned, letting out a high note of song, swinging a spoon around like she was conducting an orchestra, when she saw Marianne. Marianne had her arm around the waist of a tall lanky man who seemed to be stuck with an expression between confused and nervous. 

“Marianne!!” The woman threw herself at Marianne, trapping her in a huge bear hug. 

“You made it!! After last year I wasn't sure.” 

Marianne laughed hugging her back. “Hey Aunt Plum! Yep I came.” 

Plum let go and glanced at Bog. “And who is this tall drink of water?” 

Marianne grinned. “This is Bog.” Marianne's smiled became bigger, her cheeks flushing pink. “My boyfriend.” 

Bog put his hand out to take hers, but Plum reacted just like Dawn. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly. “Ooo!! Marianne he's nice! Good to hug!” 

Bog put his hands up in the air, glancing at Marianne with a plead for help. Marianne shrugged, a giggle in her eyes. Bog realized he would probably not get free unless he hugged her back. So he reluctantly returned the hug. Plum pulled back with a huge grin “Oh yeah he is really nice. How did you like Marianne's father? He's a royal twit isn't he?” 

“Plum!!!” Marianne laughed, while looking scandalized. Bog snorted a laugh. Plum gave Marianne a “Well he is” look. 

Bog chuckled, looking around the kitchen. “Need some help?” 

Plum burst into a loud laugh. “Yes! come on!” 

Soon Bog, Marianne and Plum, were singing and dancing, as they helped cook dinner. Bog was singing with that Scottish lilt in his voice that gave Marianne goosebumps, as he bumped his hip against her. Dawn and Sunny ended up joining, when it was clear the singing in the kitchen was getting louder. The five of them drank too wine as they all cooked together. Soon it was as if Bog had always been part of the family. 

Dagda opened the kitchen door, just a hint, looking in on the group of them. He smiled softly. His girls were happy, happier than he had ever seen them since before their mother died. He watched Bog gather up a gravy stained Marianne and waltz her around the kitchen singing some song Dagda didn't know. While his youngest daughter did background with her aunt Plum and her boyfriend Sunny. He sighed, closing the door softly before returning to his chair. He could not help but smile. He may not readily approve of his daughters choices, but they were happy, very happy, something he simply could not ignore. 

He smiled just a little sadly, wishing his wife was here. He thought to himself, how he was going to have to fight his aversion two these two men for his daughters aside. He also thought about how his wife would have punched him in the arm, given him that look that Marianne would give him sometimes when she was annoyed with him. His wife would have adored both those young men, the way they were making their daughters laugh, smile, sing. He leaned back in hi chair with a small melancholy, smile. As he sat there though another thought occurred to him. The thought of grandbabies, which caused his smile to expanded threefold.


	12. History Class

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was for a college au prompt that I never finished or edited

Marianne walked into the class late. She had had trouble finding it being new to the college. She felt a little off going back to school but after breaking up with Roland she decided to go back to college and finish her degree. So here she was taking a history class, lost and stumbling into the room a few minutes late. She was forced to sit way in the back next to a lanky man who was leaning so far in his chair he looked like he might slide out of it at any moment.His booted feet were in the aisle a bit. he didn't' move when she came down forcing her to walk over his legs. 

She took the seat next to him which she figured was probably free only because of the look he gave her meaning he probably scared off anyone else from sitting her. But damn it! It was the only available seat and she would be damned if she was going to let that cockroach scare her off. 

The teacher continued lecturing and Marianne started taking notes. Her eyes slide sideways to the man next to her and she noticed he didn't even have a notebook out. She furrowed her brows then glanced up at him to see him watching her. He winked at her and she yanked her head back to her notebook scribbling notes. 

“Excuse me sir.” 

Marianne looked up from her notebook to see the lanky dude with his hand up. The professor turned around slowly from where he had been writing on the board. “Yes?” 

"Isn't it true that Napoleon wasn't murdered but died from arsenic in the wallpaper?” 

The professor stared at him over the top of his glasses. “We are discussing per-Napoleon era here.” 

The man grinned. “Oh.” 

The professor continued writing on the board in talking in a deadly monotone voice. The guy dropped his head back with a groan. Marianne glanced over at him with a smirk. He was right, this professor was beyond dull. He raised his head up and glanced over at her putting his hand up again. The professor finally noticed and turned “yes Mr. King?” 

“Isn't true that Marie Antoinette did not say 'Let them eat cake' that it was actually just a rumor that started before she supposedly said it?” 

The professor stared at him over the rim of his glasses. “I don't know Mr. King.” 

Mr. King shrugged the professor turned back to the board. She threw Mr. King a look that she hoped told him to shut up. But he only looked at her and grinned. 

After class, which seemed to go on forever with Mr. King asking questions that did not go along with the reading for most of it until Marianne was ready to push him out of his desk. As they were leaving the classroom she grabbed his jacket and yanked him backwards. “Do you have a problem?” 

He turned to look down at her with a quizzical look like he had no idea what she was talking about. 

“You don't take notes and you asked stupid questions all through class.” 

He shrugged. “They weren't stupid questions. Just the class was a bit stupid and dull. He wasn't even given the interesting parts of history.” 

She glared at him,. “Well I am not paying for this class to have it messed up by someone lazy like you!” 

She pushed him in the chest. He stumbled back a little bit his eyes wide. “Whoa there!” 

“No you whoa there! You better be quiet and start taking notes or so help me!” 

He grinned at her, his teeth were a bit crooked, his nose a bit sharp and his eyes were just too blue. “Don't you smile at me buster! Or I swear to God I will knock you flat on your ass!” 

The man stared at her still grinning then whispered. “You take you schooling seriously don't ya tough girl?” 

Marianne snarled.


	13. Mr. King at Your Service

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be an attempt at a Regency AU from a while ago.  
>  I wrote quite a bit before I abandoned it. Also unedited.

Marianna Fairfield had had enough of the party and enough of Roland and his endless pursuit to get her back . She was here only as an escort to her little sister Dawn who simply adored parties of any kind. 

The food was surprisingly good but the company and the dancing was tedious. Everyone expected her to make small-talk, to be pleasant but her heart simply was not in it. She would much rather be hiking across the hills or walking through the garden. She was suppose to be polite, genteel and lady like when all she wanted to do was hit Roland in his smug cheating face and let everyone at the party know what a complete ass he was. 

No one wanted her, as a young lady, to discuss politics or history, or anything interesting for that matter. She decide to see if she could leave the party and slip out into the gardens area. There were a few people moving about talking or dancing. She hid a smile when she caught a glimpse of her sister Dawn a bright spot of living sunshine in the room. Apparently dancing with every handsome, eligible bachelor had worn thin. Dawn was with her best friend Sunny the family groom in tow ,was off to explore the areas around the mansion where the party was being held. 

Marianne moved away looking for a more secluded area. She thought she may have found one as she slid between some hedges only to come up short as she ran into a very tall, very thin shadow. The shadow grabs her shoulders stopping her from stumbling backwards onto her rear. She looks up into the brightest blue eyes she has ever seen which were accompanied by a long , stern face. The gentleman glared down at her but then took a step back, “What are you doing here?” 

Marianne made a face “I could ask the same of you. And that was rude.” 

The tall man narrowed his eyes then put a hand to the back of his neck “Parties are infuriating after a bit. I needed some solitude and I am sorry I was rude. Truly you simply startled me.” 

Marianne bit her bottom lip and smiled just slight. “I was seeking the same thing.” 

The tall man, who she noticed had a thick accent smiled ever so slightly then surprised her with a very regal, elegant bow, “King” 

Marianne curtsied “Fairfield, Marianne Fairfield.” 

King nodded, “You may call me Bog.” 

Marianne tilted her head “Bog, that is unusual.” 

Bog snorts, “It is my name.” 

They are both quiet until Bog sighed “would you take a turn around the gardens Miss Fairfield?” 

she quirked an eyebrow in surprise but took his offered arm. 

“So if you are not fond of parties, why are you here?” Marianne looked up at him and Bog glanced down at her, his intense blue eyes made a shiver run through her. “I am here to see the library. I am looking for a particular book and I was told I could find it here. But I was deceived it seems.” 

Marianne lifts up the hem of her dress as they step deeper into the edges of the garden, “what book if I might be so bold as to ask?: 

Bog smiles, “a book of magic, potions, charms things of that nature.” He looked down at her and something about his features changed, she cannot put her finger on it but something darker comes over him but he said nothing else. 

She frowned as they took a turn around the fountain the the garden with Germanic urn in the middle. 

“So what would a gentlemen want with a book of fantasy?” Marianne asked as she lifted the hem of her dress just slightly to settle it again. 

Mr. King frowned, “Nothing truly, just researching something.” 

She was about to say something else when she heard someone call her name and turns to see her sister Dawn coming across the gardens toward her. Marianne turned to Mr. King, “My sister seems to be looking for me.” Mr. King let go of her arm and bowed, “Perhaps we will meet again at another of this 'parties'” King said the word parties in such a way that that is is very clear parties are not his favorite thing. Marianne curtsied but Mr. King quickly turned away and strolled off down the stone path just as Dawn came flouncing up. 

Part II: 

Weeks later she still found herself thinking about the mysterious Mr. King and the book he was looking for. When she mentioned him covertly to others no one seemed to have any idea about whom she was speaking about. Her father was out in the gardens and thus she had the library to herself this afternoon. 

She was sitting in the library reading a book about sword play, it was one of her fathers that she had secretly been reading. She absently used her free right hand to mimic thrusts and such when she heard a knock at the door. She was quick to get up and hurry over to the door way hiding herself so that she could look into the hall. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw Mr. King talking to the butler. 

King handed the man his card after her removed his top hand and held it under one long arm. He was dressed all in black the only color a storm grey shirt which made him look like a walking shadow. 

As the butler turned to find her, King followed the man and saw her hiding in the door way. His blue eyes seem to leap from his face, going from cold ice blue to a sudden warmer shade. 

“Miss Fairfield.” 

Marianne smiled as her butler handed her King's card she bowed her head “Mr. King. And what to I owe to this visit.” 

King stepped over and Marianne asked the butler to bring in some tea for their guest. 

Marianne showed him into the library quickly taking her book and turning the cover face down. 

“So what do I owe the honor of this visit Mr. King?” 

King looked at her and murmured “Please, Bog is fine.” 

Marianne nodded and motioned him to a seat which Bog took almost folding himself into the seat to fit his tall, lean frame. 

Before they can speak further the butler returned with a tray carrying a fine silver teapot, two china cups and sauces, accouterments and a small plate of tiny cakes. She nods her thanks to the butler and looked at Bog, “Shall I pour?” 

“Please do.” 

they sipped their tea quietly then Bog seemed to be a bit nervous as he set down his cup, “I came to call on you because....” Bog trailed off and looked into her eyes seeming to loose all ability to speak. He quickly turned away looking uncomfortable as he sipped his tea then he seemed to compose himself. 

“I learned that you have an impressive library and I thought perhaps I could see it.” He looked around at the library and Marianne smiled, “It is my fathers but I am sure he would not mind though I do not think he would have the type of books you are looking for. Now my aunt....” 

King frowned, “Your aunt?” 

She sipped her tea, “Yes, my aunt Aura. Yes she is a bit, odd.” 

King lifted a brow at her, “Odd?” 

Marianne smiled just slightly, “I do believe that she has many different types of books, perhaps I could inquire for you?” 

Mr. King was about to open his mouth when suddenly the doors to the library were pushed open further and her sister Dawn came running into the library, “Marianne! Marianne!! I just heard someone took that old haunted property! The one with the church and graveyard attached!” Dawn nearly slid across the floor in her slippers as she is forced to stop short seeing that her sister has a gentleman guest. Dawn's blue eyes widened in surprise. “Oh my Marianne!! Does father know you have a gentleman caller?” 

Mr. King stood up to him impressive height looking flustered and nervous as he bowed to Dawn, “Mr. King at your service.”


	14. Viking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a prompt given to me by bifacialler . I have attempted this several times and I keep getting stuck. This contains version one and two. I swear I will write this but these are two attempts I have abandoned because I just didn't like them. (also unedited)

Attempt one: 

Bog walked through their camp with a snarl on his face. They had reported that a prisoner had been taken which was not at all what they were suppose to be doing. They were suppose to stop the caravan that was carrying the potion that that blast witch Plum had made, not take prisoners. Bog rubbed the back of his neck as he walked, his long stride eating up the ground quickly until he was standing in front of the structure where they had stowed the prisoner. Bog touched the blade at his side, hoping he would not need it. 

He took a breath putting his hands on his hips as he prepared himself. He was extremely tall and wiry his hair shaggy with a few short braids. Unlike most of his men, he was fairly clean shaven which highlighted the ragged scars on his face, specially along his chin. He took another breath laying a hand on the door. 

All that he had been told was that the prisoner was feisty and had managed to hurt a handful of his men before being subdued so Bog was expecting this warrior to attack him as soon as he entered instead of being ready to talk. But he didn't want to hurt the prisoner, he needed information and he wasn't one to torture for it. Course he also did not want to end up dead either. 

He reached out opening the door and stepped in closing it behind him swiftly. Nothing happened as he looked around the small space the only light come from a hole cut into the roof. His startling blue eyes scanned the room then he saw her. She was dark, covered in silks of the deepest purple he had ever seen, laced in gold circling her forehead was a crown of thin beaten gold littered with what looked like coins, the lower half of her face was covered in the deepest rose colored silks. Her eyes were pale amber outlined with makeup that made them stand out but even with the dim sunlight her eyes flashed with intent and courage. Every part of her was covered in silks and gold though the silks were torn in places showing that she had put up a fight. 

Bog stood there stunned, they had not told him it was a woman, nor that she was beautiful. He simply stood there not sure what to do. Where it came to his men and fighting Bog was an expert, skilled but with women, he was like a young baby-face child his nervous getting the best of him. He took a breath thinking to see if she understood his language. 

“Ah..do you speak?” 

The woman stared hard at him then murmured her voice musical as she spoke. “I understand your northmen language. My father is a northmen, my mother a eastern princess.” She said this last part with a sneer in her voice. 

Bog was started. “Oh.” Now he wasn't sure what to say. 

Attempt two:

She slipped down into the dungeons, her silks making only the slightest sound, her jewelry making soft clinks and rattles as she moved. She knew that Roland had his men beat the warrior named Bog and take him to the cells, but there was something about the blue-eyed viking that spoke to her. She would free him, see him safely away. 

The cells were dark and she could detect the smell of old blood and fear. She smiled as she passed the guards, they were sleeping sounding. The drug in their drinks having worked like a charm. She found the man named Bog in his cell, his lean muscled arm secured by iron chains over his head. His head was hanging down, she could see he had been whipped. She snarled softly, her hate for Roland intense but that would have to wait. She needed to get Bog out of here. She slipped the key into the lock, it clicked open with little sound. She pushed the cell door wide stepping in on slipper feet. Just as she was about to reach for one of Bog's arms, he snarled, jerking his arms clattering the chains that held him, until he realized it was her. She swallowed, a gasp of surprise on her lips as she leap back from him. His blue eyes were momentarily hazed with pain but then he recognized her. “Marianne?” he was clearly confused. 

She pressed her lips together. 'Stay quiet, I'm getting you out of here.” she quickly removed the manacles that chained him to the wall. She helped him to stand it was clear he had taken a very bad beating, one that would have put most men down but he stood, even hunched he towered over her. 

She put her jeweled finger to her lips then motioned for him to follow her. She led him to where she knew they kept his weapons and clothing. Soon Bog was dressed in his leathers, his sword at his side. He remained quiet following her. When they stepped outside the darkness was complete the moon and stars providing the other light. She guided him to where she had the horse waiting for him. “Now go, hurry!” Bog nodded moving toward the animal and easily leaped onto its back. Marianne was about to say something to him when he reached down and easily pulled her up in front of him. She barely managed to keep the squeak of surprise from escaping her lips when he yanked her up on the horse wrapping his lean arms around her then kicked the horse into movement. 

They traveled most of the night, leaving the lands of her people heading toward the dark places, the places where this warrior came from she was sure. 

She dozed off his arm wrapped around her waist she felt protected in his arms, even though they were riding hard, she felt cherished. Finally that stopped both of them weary. She helped him remove the horses packs pulling out a tent and bedding. It was hilly here with trees in a ribbon moving off into the distance. He found a place out of sight for the to camp 

* p>Bog laid down on his back the pain was welcomed it meant he was alive. Marianne crawled into the tent she lay on her side. He looked at her, she was beautiful in purple and lavender silks gold and gems glittered along her brow and down her arms as he eyes traveled further he saw the glitter at her belly and hips. She was the most exotic treasure he had ever seen. She cradled her head against her hand leaning on her elbow studying the tall lean warrior. “Why help me?” he finally asked. 

She smiled, her lips even in the darkness glowed with a deep plum color begging him to kiss them. “You stood up to Roland, you defended me not because I was a woman but because I was a person.” She smiled slowly. “You showed me respect, something that golden-haired lout! He only wanted me to possess me, he didn't want me.” 

Bog rolled over to face her. “Why not? You are more than simply beautiful. You are clearly intelligent and skilled. Any man would be honored to have you love him. You fighting by his side. The way you handled those swords was a thing to be admired.” Bog smiled then looked slightly uncomfortable. He was not use to speaking quite so much nor spilling his heart in quite this way. Marianne made him feel comfortable though when he first saw her, attached to her beauty, then seeing her skills with a sword when that man had touched her...pursuing her was what had got teen him beaten and nearly killed but she was worth every once of pain. 

She moved closer. “Do you really think so?” 

“Aye I do.” 

She reached out to run a jeweled finger along his chest but Bog grabbed her wrist. “Why did you help me?” 

The sigh was soft before she answered. “What he did was...I did not want him yet he presumed to


	15. Dungeons and Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unedited

Bog struggled with his apartment door, the setting sun caught the dark auburn streaks in his hair which made his hair look more red than usual. He blew the stray lock of hair out of his eyes as he fumbled with his apartment key. He was due for a hair cut, he just hadn't gotten around to getting one yet. Just didn't seem that important. Bog got the door unlocked and twisted the knob, using his foot to get the apartment door the rest of the way open, since his arms were full of grocery bags. The group was coming over tonight for some intense gaming. The plan was to play until late tonight and into the next day. 

Everyone had managed to get Sunday off which was rare, so the plan was for some epic roleplaying. Bog had a great story planned for this session. He was pretty proud of the story he had put together as dungeon master. His role-playing session of DM were legendary which was why he didn't actually play much, he usually ran the games because everyone wanted him as DM. He always had the perfect music picked out, did the voices of all the characters, really put a lot of imagination and effort into transporting his players into another world. 

The only hitch in the playing tonight was Sunny. It wasn't that Sunny was bringing his girlfriend Dawn again, that was not the issue. Dawn was sweet, but she had quickly lost interest in learning how to play. She just couldn't get into the other aspects of playing, rolling dice, percentages of damage, the technical side of it, so she would usually spend her time watching TV, surfing the net or making food for everyone. 

What was the hitch was that last time Sunny's girlfriend had said her sister would love playing. The other guys, Thang, Stuff, the only girl in their group, Brutus and Parn had all moaned and groaned but Bog had said she could come, especially after Dawn kept giving him those damn puppy dog eyes of hers. He sighed as he closed the door with the other foot putting the bags down. Dawn had attached herself to Bog, calling him Boggy Woggy from the moment they met. She treated him like he was her big brother or something. Bog smiled softly, he would never admit it, but it was nice having a young woman who wasn't scared of him, horrified by his looks or disgusted by him, plus Bog was an only child, he had always wanted a sister or brother. Now Dawn seemed to have taken it upon herself to be his little sister. Which was fine with him, he would never say it out loud, but he adored her and would do anything for her. 

Dawn seemed to genuinely like him. She was very sweet. He was a bit nervous about this sister of hers coming over, but he figured she would probably be like Dawn, lose interest, end up with Dawn on the TV or internet then he would never see her again. Though if he was honest, what really made him nervous was the fact that Dawn had gone on and on about how her sister Marianne would be perfect for him. What? He asked Dawn to please not tell her sister that and Dawn had sworn on Sunny that she would not say a word to her sister about Boggy being perfect for her. Bog doubted any woman could get pass his looks to even give him a second thought, no matter how sweet their sister was... Bog started getting everything set up for tonight, setting out the ingredients to make chocolate chip cookies. The group loved his cookies. He chuckled as he put a CD on and started to bake. 

* 

Over at her apartment, Dawn was dragging her sister Marianne to the car where Sunny was sitting waiting patiently drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to some music only he could hear. 

“I don't want to learn to play Dungeons and Dragons!” 

Marianne practically whined as Dawn dragged her by one hand to the car. 

“Shush! You have spend enough time brooding over that stupid-head Roland. Besides, you get to pick your character! You would be an ass-kick Xena warrior princess!!” 

She pulled open the back door pushing a whining and groaning Marianne into the backseat, closing the door on her. Dawn pulled open the passenger door hopping in next to Sunny, 

“Marianne don't lay there buckle up! Sunny hit the gas before she escapes!!” 

* 

When the doorbell rang Bog was in the middle of pulling out the last of the cookies from the oven, so he simply yelled. “It's open!!” 

His accent came out a bit stronger than he meant it to, which always annoyed him. He was setting the pan down on the counter when Sunny poked his head around the door. “Hey Bog!” 

Sunny stepped the rest of the way in, his books under his arm. Dawn and another woman came in behind him. The one he didn't know was, beautiful. She was wearing purple leggings and an oversized t-shirt with a tattooed Tinkerbell on it. She was...she was... Bog found himself suddenly unable to form words. He sucked in a startled breath, quickly covering it up by turning to switch the oven off. He thought the sister would be cute like Dawn but not...well...gorgeous...he closed his eyes and turned around again trying to be non-nonchalant. “So you're Dawn's sister?” he glanced over his shoulder trying to not look too uncomfortable or to stare. 

The dark haired beauty grinned. “Ah, yes I'm Marianne. Bog right? You made cookies? They smell wonderful.” 

Bog looked back at her, his cheeks flushed. “Ah thanks.” He picked one up and held it out. “Do you want one?” 

She walked over taking the warm chocolate chip cookie, her fingers brushed his which caused both of them to snatch their hands back like they had been shocked. 

“Ah thanks.” Marianne blushed as she took a huge bite out of the cookie. But damn it was good!! 

He swallowed. “Ah so ah...umm..do you know what you want your character to be?” 

Marianne started to answer but her mouth was full of cookie. Dawn jumped up from where she had flopped on the couch with Sunny. “She said something about being a fairy warrior!” 

Bog grinned. “That's different.” 

Marianne tried to smile but she had taken a pretty big bite of cookie so she simply shrugged her shoulders. 

Dawn grinned. “How about you two work on her character. Sunny and I can clean up the kitchen for you Bog and get the other stuff ready for the guys.” 

Bog started to protest but making a character could be time consuming, the sooner they got started the better. “Sure let me get my books.” 

Soon Bog and Marianne were sitting at his kitchen table with a pile of books, character sheets and a box full of dice. Sunny was sitting on the couch with his own set of books while Dawn got out the soda and started making finger foods out of what she found in Bog's kitchen. 

Bog wasn't aware when he leaned close to Marianne. They were practically touching shoulders as he pointed out her stats, where to write her ranged attack bonus and where to list her skills. He was so engrossed in explaining things to her that touching her shoulder, leaning close, faces almost touching. Marianne was completely enthralled with learning the game, asking intelligent questions about how to figure out hit ratio, attack speeds, movement. Soon they were sitting heads touching working closely together. 

Dawn came over flopping down next to Sunny. She elbowed him in the side startling him then indicated he should look over his shoulder. He did to see Marianne and Bog sitting extremely close, talking in hushed tones, touching one another as the went through books together. Dawn whispered to Sunny. “Is it my imagination, or are they getting along?” 

Sunny grinned, “You're right, they do look good together. “ 

Dawn grinned happy with herself. “I knew they would be perfect together. “ 

Sunny chuckled softly shaking his head. 

After about an hour Marianne was pleased with her character, a fairy warrior princess. Marianne was asking Bog questions about the campaign, her voice clearly excited about the coming game. Bog blushed letting her pick any dice she liked from his bag, going so far as to tell her she could keep them until she got her own. 

Marianne, in her excitement, had taken his hand and squeezed it. Roland had never done anything so unselfish as simply letting her keep something of his, she didn't know much about DnD but she knew enough to realize that giving her some of his dice, her pick of them at that, was a big deal. 

“Thanks Bog!” She grinned at him looking so damnable cute that Bog found he suddenly could not speak. 

That was when there was a knock at the door and Bog stood up so quickly that he knocked his chair down. He stumbled, embarrassed, as he picked up the chair and went to the door opening it to see the rest of the group. Within the hour they were all sitting around the table, music playing as Dawn was cooking in the kitchen having found the makings for nachos. 

Bog and Marianne kept glancing at one another. Marianne was sitting on his right so that as a new player he could help her out with questions. Dawn was watching from the kitchen her eyes dancing with glee at the way they kept looking one each other. Sunny glanced at her once and she did a little, silent cheer.


	16. The Courtroom is No Place for Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marianne starts at the King and King law firm as a junior associate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figured I was probably not going to do more with this....

He was exhausted even though it was morning. Bog rolled his sleeves up and unbuttoned his vest to be a bit more comfortable. He was not meeting any clients today, only looking over this paper work. At least that was the plan. He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again willing himself to be more wakeful as he glanced around his office. It was nice, dark wood furniture, deep maroon walls, glass doors and shelves loaded with law, history and philosophy books giving, the small office a glow of warmth and comfort except for the irritable man behind the desk. 

He had been working all night and had gotten very little sleep. He shoved his glasses up as he looked over the files before pulling the frames off to rub the bridge of his nose. He put the glasses down on his desk and reached over to pick up his coffee when Stephanie knocked. She opened his office door, leaning on the knob. Stephanie (or as she sometimes went by, Stuff) was Bog's secretary. She was not what one would call attractive, but she was very down to earth and knew her job. She handed him a note. “The new junior lawyer that your mother hired is on her way up.” 

Bog blinked. “What?? Who did Mom hire? When?” 

Stuff shrugged. “Her name is Marianne Summerfield. That's all I know.” 

Bog frowned in thought. “Summerfield? Are you sure?” 

She pointed at the note. “That's what she said.” 

“Thanks, Stuff.” 

She smiled, giving him a bit of a salute as she left his office. Bog rolled his eyes, but immediately got on the phone calling his mother's office, but instead of his mother he reached her assistant Theodore, Stuff's husband who also had an odd nickname, Thang. He ground his teeth in frustration. “Thang, where is my mother?” 

“Well, Mr. King, she is in court this morning.” 

“Of course she is.” Bog pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Have her call me as soon as she gets back to the office.” 

“Will do, Mr. King.” 

The moment that Bog set the phone in its cradle, he saw Stuff coming to his door with a young woman behind her. She was dressed in a deep purple business suit with flared, stylish slacks instead of a skirt. Her hair was cut short, but with a wildness about it that startled him. Stuff opened his office door leaning in. 

“Mr. King, Ms. Summerfield here to see you.” 

Bog rose from his seat to get the required introduction out of the way. Ms. Summerfield stepped in with her hand out to him. Bog took it, her grip firm as they shook hands. 

“Ms. Summerfield, I apologize, but I just learned of your hiring a few moments ago.” 

She smiled; it was a nice smile with just a hint of fire. “I was hired by Mrs. King.” 

Bog nodded. “Yes.” 

For a moment Bog thought he could kill his mother. She was always doing things behind his back, like hiring attractive women. 

He took a breath and continued. “My mother, yes, she is the head of our law firm.” Bog frowned as he studied her. “The name Summerfield sounds familiar.” 

She pressed her lips together in a thin line as she murmured, “My father is Dagda Summerfield, one of the partners of Summerfield and Knight.” 

Bog turned to pick up his glasses, sliding them on and returned his gaze to the young lawyer in his office, his eyes a little suspicious. His expression made Marianne immediately go on the defensive, her posture turning stiff. 

Bog narrowed his gaze studying her. 

“Summerfield and Knight? Dagda Summerfield is your father? Isn't he in line for a judge's position?” 

The young woman snorted. “Yes, yes he is and my ex-fiance has taken over his father's position as partner.” Bog pushed his glasses up again, studying her face. “Ex-fiance?” 

He put a profound stress on the word “ex.” 

She gave him a look that said he had asked too many questions, but he had one more. “Why are you here instead of your family's law firm?” 

Marianne sighed heavily. “Personal reasons.” It was clear she didn't want to talk about. 

He stared hard at her for a long time without saying a word. Marianne found his blue eyes disconcerting, but she glared right back daring him to say something. But then Bog sighed heavily. 

“Well, I suppose since you're here, I could use some fresh eyes on this case.” 

He handed her the files he had been examining. Marianne took them and laid the folder open in her hands, her sharp gaze moving swiftly down the document. 

He watched her as she finished her reading and then she looked up at him. “I think I can help you with this, Mr. King.” 

Part TWO: 

Marianne was never so happy that she didn't like to wear heels than today when she was running late to court. She was working a case with Mr. King as his second and she wanted to impress him. So far she wasn't sure how she was doing. He did not give compliments. Now his mother, she gave too many! It wasn't that she wanted to impress him as a person, just as an equal in regards to the law, at least that was what she told herself. Otherwise Mr. King was a bit of a grouch. Many times she found him amusing and other times she was about ready to belt him across the jaw. She lost her train of thought as she ran quickly down the halls to the courtroom and let herself in. A few eyes turned her way but she looked to be exactly on time. She saw Mr. King, his glasses sitting at the tip of his nose as he glared at her. Marianne simply gave him a look as she rushed up taking her seat and handing him the papers he needed. He gave her one more look over the top of his glasses than took the paperwork and got down to business. 

Watching him, Marianne had to admit the man could own a courtroom. He was equal parts charming and intimating as he presented their case. She liked watching him walk back and forth as he presented their case, the way he moved those long fingered hands of his, graceful would be the word she thought. She took notes, helped him with the paperwork and motions until they broke for lunch. Bog stood with a sigh, cracking his neck. He started to gather papers, glanced over at Marianne, 

“Want to grab some lunch?” 

She was a bit surprised. He had never asked her to join him before. “Ah, sure.” 

Bog nodded and turned, walking swiftly down the aisle, not even waiting to see if she was following. They walked across the street to what looked like a little old fashion diner. Marianne was practically running to keep up with him. With his long strides and being so much taller than her, he was able to move swiftly. After they walk in, Bog didn't wait to be seated but went to a booth in the back that was empty. She had the impression that it was always empty and waiting for him. The waitress brought over two plastic covered menus and took their drink orders. They were quiet for a while looking over the menus waiting for their drinks. Bog pushed his glasses up when the waitress came back, ordering a burger and fries, while she ordered a BLT. As they waited for their food, Bog looked at her over the top of his glasses. 

“So. You have been doing good work.” 

She smiled. “Thank you Mr. King.” 

“Bog, you can call me Bog.” 

“May I ask you a personal question Marianne, may I call you Marianne?” 

“Sure.” 

He pushed his glasses up. “Why did you leave your father's law firm. I heard the rumors but I want to know what you have to say.” She took a large pull on the straw of her soda before answering. “What have you heard?” 

Bog sipped his drink moving his straw around. “Well, I heard that you were engaged to Roland Knight, the son of the late Arthur Knight. No one is really clear on what happened, only the wedding was called off and then you suddenly disappeared.” 

Marianne took another sip of her drink, then a deep breath. “The day of our wedding I caught him in bed with someone else. I agreed to keep it out of the papers if they let me leave the firm without a fuss.” She shrugged. “That's it.” 

About that time their sandwiches came. Bog leaned back to let the waitress set down his plate, pushing his glasses up at the same time. They were quiet for a bit taking bites of their food when Bog picked up a fry dipping it in ketchup then pointed it at her. “So why come to our firm? He stuck the fry in his mouth looking at her with a quirked brow. She picked up a bite of bacon from her plate sticking it in her mouth and chewing before answering. “Well, My father had nothing but bad things to say about you and your mother. So I figured that was the place I needed to go. You guys have a great record and I admire the cases you choose to take.” She smiled leaning over to take a sip of her drink. Bog looked a bit surprised but he smiled. “My mother is having a dinner party this weekend for new and old clients. I think you should come.” 

Saturday night came quickly. Marianne did a little spin looking at herself in the mirror. She had a new dress on for this little party. It was gorgeous, a deep purple that was almost black, short enough to show off her legs but not so short it was indecent. She bought the dress just for the party. It was stylish and sexy. Why she wanted it to be sexy she wasn't sure, chalking it up to needing to feel pretty after the whole Roland fiasco. But she was happy with it. 

The house where Bog lived was a very nice ranch-style home. As she pulled up in her little VW Bug she saw there were some very nice cars parked in the driveway and along the street. Cars that were much nicer than her little purple bug. She parked her car on the street and headed up the walk as she pulled her purse over her shoulder and dropped her car keys inside. The walk way was lit with simple yard lights, but what she noticed beside the immaculate lawn, was the deep blue flowering hyacinths that bordered the house. Unusual for a single man. She rang the bell, shifting her feet a little nervous. She was surprised to be greeted by Bog. For some reason she thought someone else would answer the door. 

He was dressed nicely, but casual, no tie, dark dress pants and deep blue shirt that made his eyes jump out in startingly fashion. He smiled with genuine pleasure at seeing her, which startled her. 

“ Marianne, glad you made it!” He took her hand, bringing her in. The feel of his hand in hers was surprisingly warm and she felt callouses for a moment. Not the hand of a lawyer, but the hand of a man who was use to manual labor. He let go of her fingers as if startled then glanced at her oddly for a moment before he took a deep breath. 

“Come on in, everyone is in the living room.” Griselda grinned when she saw Marianne, the short woman was dressed in a pale shapeless frock which considering how much money she probably made was odd, but over the last few weeks Marianne had come to realize that Griselda was a bit of an odd duck for a lawyer. Griselda waved at her from the living-room. 

“Ah Marianne! Glad you could make it!” 

Stuff and Thang were having a drink together over by one of the rooms large windows. They were a funny looking couple with Thang being so short and Stuff so much bigger than him, but they seemed happy as they waved at her. They had something she envied, they were clearly in love with one another. Griselda grabbed Marianne, hooked her arm through hers and started to introduce Marianne to the firms clients. Bog returned to his place by the fireplace, picking up his drink from the mantel watching his mother and Marianne. 

There was a table set with finger foods so that everyone could talk and eat at the same time. It was a cozy atmosphere, not as formal as she would have thought. Bog was standing nearby leaning against the mantle of the fireplace in the living room not speaking with anyone at the moment. He was holding a shot glass with what looked like whiskey, but she wasn't sure, not really having a eye for that sort of thing. He was staring off into the distance his glasses having slid down his long nose a bit. He looked distracted and slightly sad. After Griselda released her, she made her way over to him. 

“Nice party.” 

Bog looked up startled and gave her a soft smile. 

“Aye, my mother always likes small gatherings, nothing too formal. Puts everyone at ease. We're a family she is always saying.” 

“Well this is nice, just enough professionalism and a lot of family comfort.” 

Bog nodded pushing his glasses up with one finger and taking a sip of his drink. They were both quiet for a moment when there was a knock at the door. Bog looked up, his brow furrowed, clearly not expecting anyone. He glanced at Marianne, placed his drink on the mantel and walked swiftly to the door opening it. 

Standing there with a woman on his arm was Roland. The two of them were clearly in very, very expensive clothing, both looking liked they had stepped out of the latest fashion magazine. Bog let out a curse loud enough that the whole room heard it. Marianne's eyes widen but Bog directed his comment to the two uninvited guests on his doorstep. 

“What are you doing here Fran?! With him?” He pointed at Roland as if he was pointing at some abbreviation of nature. 

Marianne walked over, she couldn't keep her voice from rising. 

“Roland!” 

Roland grinned trying to use that charming smile of his, the woman on his arm gave Bog a once over but with her nose wrinkled like she smelled something foul. 

“Hello Bog. We just thought we would come over, heard there was party.” 

Roland grinned even wider. 

“Besides, had to get a look at what sort of clients this law firm manages to have...I mean I am really surprised.” 

He glanced pass Bog and gave Marianne a smug look, his eyes glancing over the clients whose attention was now focused at the door. Bog narrowed his eyes at the two people. 

“Get out Knight, Fran.” 

Fran leaned forward showing off cleavage that looked like it was struggling to stay in her dress. “Really Bog, you won't invite you ex-fiance in?” 

Marianne's eyes widen in shock, shooting a look toward Roland who shrugged with a smirk. 

“Come on Bog invite us in?” 

Roland's smile showed off his expensive teeth that made Marianne want to give him a good right hook to the jaw. 

Bog hissed with a slight growl to his voice. “I am done being polite.” 

Griselda had come over by then and narrowed her eyes at the two. 

“Go ahead Bog, let them in. We have nothing to hide and it is a party.” 

Bog gave his mother a look that said he clearly thought she was crazy. He snarled, but then held the door open, stepping aside. After they walked pass, Bog leaned close to his mother hissing in her ear. 

“What are you doing? He is going to try and get our clients and make a fool of me and Marianne. He didn't just accidentally show up with Fran!” 

She smiled at her son patting his cheek. 

“Sweetie, if any of our clients are that easy to sway than we don't need them. As for you and Marianne, you two need to face your demons.” 

She smiled and walked back into the living room and her guests. Bog stared at his mother's retreating back then his gaze wandered the room looking ready to bite something. Marianne laid a hand on his arm. 

“Wanna go for a walk?” 

Bog glared back at Roland and Fran who had picked up drinks. They were chatting and laughing with some of their clients. Bog ground his teeth, then let out a breath he had not been aware he was holding. “Yeah sure, let me get the dog.” 

Marianne blinked in surprise. Why she found it surprising Bog had a pet she wasn't sure, but he stomped off down the hall and came back a few minutes later with the scruffiest looking white dog she had ever seen. “ 

“Oh my God Bog! He is adorable!! It is a he right?” 

Bog grunted as he set the dog on its tiny feet already leashed. The white scruff immediately jumped at Marianne's legs begging for attention. 

Bog growled. “Imp that's enough.” 

“Imp? The dogs name is Imp?” 

Bog sighed, rolling his eyes. “I named him when I was a kid.” 

She grinned, trying to keep it from developing into a full-fledged smile. 

“It's cute.” 

Bog glared at her, “Shut up. Come on.” 

She snorted and followed him outside. 

They walked down the sidewalk in silence for a bit, the little dog prancing happily in front of them. 

Marianne was right beside Bog, her hands behind her back. The air was cool but not enough to warrant a jacket. After a bit she muttered. 

“I can't believe him! That was your ex fiance?” 

Bog looked uncomfortable but nodded. 

“With my ex fiance. I think that was their opening statements.” 

Bog glanced over at her and chuckled. “Think war has been declared?” 

She nodded, “Yeah, I think Roland has given up on trying to get me back and is now just trying to mess with me. What about Fran? Is she trying to make you jealous?” 

Bog put a hand in the pocket of his slacks, holding the leash loosely in his other hand. “Nah, I doubt it. She burned that bridge a while ago. This is probably just plain meanness on her part. She always did have a mile wide nasty streak. Part of what makes her a good prosecutor.” 

They walked quietly a little further down the quiet sidewalk when Marianne hissed. 

“I think we should fight fire with fire.” 

Bog stopped as Imp started to pee all over some neighbors flowers which Bog didn't seem to care about. 

“What do you mean?” 

She smiled, “We pretend to be an item.” 

Bog made a face. “I don't know...” 

“Roland would have a fit thinking I dumped him for someone like you. Plus he hated the fact that after he cheated on me that would not forgive him. That I was not so damaged or strong enough to stand on my own” 

Bog pulled a face at her. “What the fuck is that suppose to mean? And not stand on your on? What did he think, you needed him?” 

She held up her hands. “I only mean he sees himself as the next Chris Hemsworth and yes, he thought I was nothing without him.” 

“Oh I get it. So you're lowering yourself to go out with a guy that looks like me, that would bother him. Plus making your own choices. I like the last part, not sure how I feel about being the step down. I mean, I know I'm hideous but I do like to think that I'm a damn good lawyer.” For just a moment his accent asserted itself 

Marianne gave an exasperated sigh. “There is nothing wrong with the way you look.” She stumbled over her words for a moment embarssed. “You're good-looking, dashing even, but Roland hates you, has always hated the fact that you have beaten him in court and that I would rather be with you than him would be a blow to his inflated ego.” 

Bog narrowed his eyes then whispered. “It would piss Fran off royally. She thinks I could never do as well as her. To see me with someone better than her would make her go ballistic. You ever see watch horror movies?” 

"Yeah.” 

Bog grinned wickedly which sent flutters in her stomach. “Well, it's going to be just like that. We are going to make their lives hell.” 

“Better?” Marianne blushed and laugh but Bog just shrugged. 

Marianne put her hand out. “Kill'em in court and outside the courthouse?” 

Bog took her hand. “Let's make them suffer.”


	17. YOU WANNA GO to my room to kiss and stuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unedited prompt from goldwerewolf

Bog sat on the couch. Actually he was slouched down, his long form looking to have been drawn forward, the heels of his boots on the coffee table which held his long legs bent upward. He had a beer in his hand which was balanced on his stomach, as he glared. He looked uncomfortable, and he was uncomfortable but there were only so many ways a guy his size could hide at a college party. He was only here because his roommates Thang and Brutus dragged his ass here. Otherwise he would be in his room of the house they rented, studying or simply having a pleasant evening reading. An actual physical book. By himself. 

There was a couple next to him, necking like they were in the backseat of a car. They had plopped down next to him despite the look of murder he gave them. As soon as their fannies hit the cushions, they were at each other like a couple of wild dogs. Bog sipped his beer and rolled his eyes thinking of ways to get rid of them, when he, along with everyone else in the room, heard shouting. Bog turned to see what the commotion was all about. His eyes landed on a cute little pixie girl with purple highlighted hair. She was yelling and poking a GQ model type guy in the the chest as she walked threateningly in front of him steering him toward the front door. She was snarling, almost singing about how he cheated on her, and how dare he show up at this party trying to win her back, because he had another thing coming! Then she shoved him out, then slammed the front door in the guys face. Most people were quiet, staring. She turned, wiping her hands together and grinned. 

“Now that was fun.” 

A blonde, who might have been the purple brunette's sister if Bog was any judge of looks muttered. “Awkward...” 

Bog grinned. That was one tough girl! He turned back around with a sigh, the couple wrestling next to him decided to take that moment to go somewhere else. Thank God! He had just took another drink from his beer, slouching down further when suddenly someone dropped themselves onto the seat next to him. Bog jerked, startled, to see the fiery tough girl had sat down. She glanced in surprise at him. She muttered. “Didn't think anyone was sitting here.” 

Bog pushed up to his full seated height. The woman watched with widening eyes as she realized just how tall this guy was and how the hell did he managed to hide himself on this couch? 

“It's fine.” Bog mumbled ,his accent growing slightly thicker with his growing nervousness. She tilted her head studying him. “You're Scottish, cool.” 

Bog shrugged giving her an awkward smile. “That was pretty cool what you did back there.” He indicated the front door with a shrug of his shoulder. Marianne glanced that way and chuckled. “Yeah Roland. My ex-boyfriend. Can't seem to take the hint that I don't want to see him any more.” 

She sighed, sloughing down in a similar fashion to what Bog had been in. She folded her arms over her chest. “Who you hiding from?” She asked. 

Bog frowned. “Everyone.” 

Marianne laughed. “Not much of a party person?” 

Bog sighed. “No. My friends dragged me here.” 

Marianne nodded. “Sister dragged me.” 

“I have no idea whose house this is.” Bog muttered. 

Marianne giggled. “Me either.” 

They both looked an each other and laughed. Marianne put her hand out to him. “My name is Marianne.” He took her hand, dwarfing it in his larger one. “Bogart, but my friends call me Bog.” 

Marianne blushed, damn he had lovely blue eyes. She chewed her bottom lip for a moment, they were both still holding hands staring at one another. Marianne grinned at him. “No one is at my place, you wanna go to my room and kiss and stuff?” 

Bog looked momentarily stunned. “What?” 

Marianne inched closer. He really was good-looking, if a little rough and spiky plus he had a nice mouth. She was feeling daring as she leaned closer. “Wanna go to my room and kiss and stuff?” 

Bog stared at her then mumbled back. “Yes?”


	18. The Thorn Barrier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was going to be a Sleeping Beauty AU but I think it sucks now. (unedited)

With a little jump Marianne took to the air spreading her amethyst wings out wide to catch the breeze, the sunlight streaming through them casting purple shadows as she flew higher. She smiled into the morning sun, her arms spread out, her eyes closed soaking it in. She did a spin in the air, folding her wings around her then snapping them back open again with a laugh. She twisted around and dived back into the flowers. She was so happy! Today was her wedding day! 

She giggled softly twisting again in the air. 

She finally sailed down and landed on a daisy with a sigh, grinning at the blue sky. She had wanted to take a few minutes before everything became chaotic. She drew her legs up, pulling her long pale gown down over her bare feet. Her hair was a mess having immediately gotten up from bed and flown out without taking a comb to it. Her hair brushed her shoulders, all one length that she usually wore up in ribbons and flowers but right now she had nothing in her hair. She looked fresh, young and lovely. 

Wrapping her arms around her legs Marianne rested her chin on her knees grinning. She was so happy. Getting married to Roland Knight! The most gorgeous fairy guy around! And he was marrying her! Granted others would say he was the one getting the better end, marrying a princess but they just didn't understand how great Roland was! She was sitting there daydreaming to herself when she jerked in surprise, she could have sworn she heard Chipper, Roland's squirrel. 

Standing up looking around, she spotted the armored squirrel moving through the flowers. She grinned catching a glimpse of her beloved in the saddle. 

She had just started to get up and fly down to him when she saw movement in the grass and then her heart dropped when she saw her best friend...Judith, run into Roland's arms. 

Marianne stood there stunned. But this wasn't how the fairy tale was suppose to go! She was a princess, the princess of this story and she was suppose to get her happily ever after! But as she watched, Roland dipped Judith into a longer, more passionate kiss that shattered Marianne's heart even further. Choking on a sob she took to the air. 

She flew blindly for what felt like hours. She flew until her wings hurt and her tears had dried. She dropped down in exhaustion, only then realizing where she was, the border between the fairy kingdom and the Dark Forest. The pale pink glow of afternoon sunlight cast soft color over her as it filtered through the primroses that rimmed the border. 

Marianne’s heart skipped a few beats as panic seeped in...The Dark Forest. This place was cursed. Supposedly there was a castle deep within the heart of the forest that was surrounded by a wall of impenetrable thorns put there by the Sugar Plum fairy. No one knew if anyone lived in there but the story went that there was a princess asleep deep within the castle...or it might be a prince...Marianne had heard the story a few different ways growing up. But whoever it was, was under a curse, all the stories agreed on one thing, that only true loves kiss could wake them up. 

Marianne wiped her eyes with the heels of her hands and stepped pass the primrose border. The darkness immediately descended on her. The air was considerably cooler too. She wrapped her arms around herself taking a few more steps deeper into the forest. 

She was scared but also curious...were the stories true? She took another handful of steps then stopped when she heard the sound of something rustling in the darkness. Standing very still, her eyes still adjusting to the darkness when suddenly there was movement to her left. She panicked and turned, running back into the sunlight. 

The foliage moved and something came out of the underbrush. A tiny goblin. His features were a mix of frog and fish, with budging eyes and a huge rather goofy grin. He was followed by another goblin, taller then him, this one was all round and lumpy with fin-like ears. “Was that a fairy?” the small goblin whispered. 

The lumpy one frowned, its voice deep. “I don't know. I thought so.” 

“Why would a fairy be here?” the tiny one asked. They looked at each other and then shrugged together. They turned as one and vanished back into the forest. 

The two goblins made their way along a trail that was overgrown with weeds and mushrooms who muttered complaints as the two goblins tumbled and pushed over their red heads. 

They moved with the confidence of long familiarity, traveling for a while until the two came upon a wall of thorns blocking their path. The lumpy one turned and held their hands down, fingers laced together. The smaller one jumped onto their cupped hands and scrambled up the wall. 

Once at the top, the small one threw down a vine which the other one grappled and climbed up. The two of them jumped over to the other side. 

Ahead of them, between the wall of thorns, lay the castle. A large predator skull made up the bulk of the castles entrance which lead into the rotten remains of what was once a massive tree. 

Everything was especially dark while the two goblins threaded their way toward the castle. Everywhere the deadly vines, the thorns like killing blades, covered everything. Every surface had become deadly. The two goblins seemed to know their way and managed to navigate without injury until they reached the entrance to the castle. 

The inside was dimly lit by glowing fungus and moss that lined the walls. The two made their way into the depths of the castle moving toward a room where goblin guards lay slumped against the wall in sleep. Inside was a moss covered bed, a netting of spiderweb silk hung down from the ceiling hiding the form of the beds lone occupant. Beside the bed sat and elderly goblin woman, short of stature with wild rust colored hair. Her tiny eyes were focused on the knitting she was doing in the dim light of the room. 

“Your majesty!” The tiny goblin bowed. The goblin woman looked up. “Thang, how many times to I need to tell you? Don't call me your majesty! My boy is still your king!” 

“Sorry Griselda.” The small goblin pouted. His partner stepped forward. “We saw a fairy in the woods!” 

Griselda frowned. “Really? I wonder why? Stuff? Do you think...” 

The lumpy goblin frowned. “She left right away though.” 

Griselda's head drooped. “This damn curse. A fairy to fall in love with him...true loves kiss to break the spell....a fairy will never fall in love with a goblin.” Stuff stepped forward. “Don't give up hope Griselda.” Griselda glanced over toward the bed at the shadowed figured within. She moved the spider silk aside to look at her son. He was taller than nearly any goblin she had ever seen except his father. He was layered in natural armor that ended in spikes and thorn-like protrusions along his chin. To her, he was a handsome young goblin, with beautiful dragonfly-like, iridescent wings, an unusual feature in a goblin, a long pointed nose like his father and with layered leave-like scalp...again...like this father. When his eyes were open, they were blue like a summer sky. But to a fairy? Her son would be thought ugly...all goblins were thought ugly...and that was why Griselda knew the sleeping curse would never be broken.


	19. Nightbreed

The light cast an orange glow that made the tunnels seem warm and inviting, at least to Bog they did. An outsider might find them frightening but then again surface-dwellers found many things terrorizing that were simply just different. He made his way down further, his clawed hands brushing the tunnel walls, until he came to one of the central rooms. This cave system had several “central” rooms but this one was the biggest. 

There were several of the “goblins” about, many near the fire that burned in the center of the room, where his mother was cooking for everyone with the help of Stuff and Thang. There were several others manning the ovens where they were baking bread, cooking vegetables or rice. While more goblins were carrying in pitchers of water to set on the central table, a long piece of polished wood were all the food and drink would be set. 

There were many caves that branched off from this central room providing private homes for everyone that lived here, going deep into the earth. Many had their own cooking areas but most still preferred to eat in the central room like a family, a huge family. 

Bog made his way over to the main cooking area, taking a seat near his mother. With a little adjustment, Bog sat so that his wings hung comfortably behind him. Griselda, Bog's mother, had several chickens roasting on spits and a few in the ovens. It took a great deal to feed this large a community, but his mother always managed to provide. 

A short squat woman, with a wide face and frizzy red hair, Griselda glanced at her son One of her three fingered hands turned the spit, while the other reached for a small canister with seasoning in it. “So how did things go up above?” 

Bog, like his mother and everyone else that lived here, underground, were the goblins that stayed hidden, they could not pass as human. Other goblins, that could pass, lived up above, growing food, tending to live stock. They were fewer in number than those down below. They also acted as sentries, protecting and watching for danger. 

Bog waved a long talon hand. “There is something going on but no information on what exactly. Men has been seen roaming the outskirts of our land, Inspectors, someone taking measurements.” Bog ran his large hands down his face. “When anyone approached to ask question they would pack up in a hurry and leave.” 

Griselda frowned. “ I don't like the sound of that.” 

“No me either. I am going to go out tonight to do some investigation.” Bog rubbed his claws along his chin.. 

“Bog, please be careful.” Griselda frowned looking nervous. 

“I always am mother.” Bog gave her a fanged grin. 

* 

Marianne had been having dreams every night. They were not exactly bad dreams, though monsters appeared in them. The dreams had been happening for as long as she could remember. Since she was a kid. The odd thing was, the dreams were dominated by one monster particularly. He had started off slightly older than her and as they years went by, the monster of her dreams age along with her. She had talked about the dreams when she was younger but as she got older she stopped. The dreams didn't come quite as often when she was in college but they started up again when she met Roland and had been getting worse ever since. She stretched her arms over her head trying to make herself relax. She had checked into a hotel room in the town where Roland was working a land deal. Her idea was to surprise him. 

Roland had said that the deal should be easy but he had been gone several weeks now. So she thought it would be fun to fly down here and surprise her finance. Her father was a big land developer, actually that was how she met Roland, he worked for her father. Roland was working this deal as a representative of Summerfield INC. 

* 

Marianne got out of the bed. She needed to walk around, to try and dispel the remains of the dream. 

The dream had been so vivid! A monster with summer blue eyes, the one who had frequented her dreams since childhood, except she hadn't been scared. Not at all. The monster had been sweet and gentle, he had been trying to warn her about something, about something that was coming, that they, all the monsters needed her protection. Marianne shuddered and shrugged picking up the glass of water by her bedside, taking a sip, swishing it around in her mouth before swallowing. 

She wondered what the dreams meant. They had been becoming more and more frequent, leaving feeling drained and continuously tired. She thought about calling Dawn, her sister. Dawn seemed to think the dreams had some meaning, that she should go see a dream doctor or a psychic but Marianne had simply laughed her off. But right now it sounded like a really good idea. She sighed turning on the TV. Tomorrow she would surprise Roland and the dreams would fade. 

* 

Roland was at a bar that night to met someone. He had his latest “girlfriend” sitting next to him , occasionally teasing his crotch with her fingers, which he was enjoying immensely, while he waited for his contact to bring the guy who was going to help him get that land. He saw them enter the bar so he sat up straight batting his lady friends hands away. They headed over when Roland waved, the two men slipped into the booth across from Roland and his “Friend.” 

Roland smiled. “So you are here to help take care of my little problem?” 

One of the men with blonde hair so light that it appeared almost white in the bars lights nodded. “You have a problem we take care of it. We're exterminators of a sorts...” He chuckled. His friend was bald with odd sort of buggy eyes, his face lacking any sort of expression, simply sat quietly. 

Roland nodded. He took out his phone, his fingers racing over the buttons. He glanced at the white haired man. “As agreed. Half now, the rest when the jobs in done.” The white haired man pulled out his phone when he gave off a strange buzz. He looked back at Roland. “Consider it done.” The two men got up and left. Roland grinned hugging his female friend close. “Soon I am going to be one really wealthy man.”


	20. Kitten

The clouds had just started to come in as Bog stepped outside. He looked up figuring he had maybe an hour before the clouds opened up and dumped rain down on him. Not that he cared one bit about getting wet. 

He was wearing his favorite kilt today and his favorite combat boots along with a t-shirt that was emblazoned along the chest. 

The text read “I'm Scottish We Dinnae Dae That Keep Calm Thing” His mother had gotten the shirt for him as a birthday gift last week when he turned thirty-five. She thought it was funny as hell, but it annoyed Bog. Of course he would never SAY it annoyed him. It was from his mother and all. 

But he wore it today because he was heading to visit his mother's house. He had learned a long time ago, it was better to just wear the shirts, or anything else his mother got for him, at least once in her presence if he wanted to live a long life. 

He was walking along, ignoring the looks he got, while whistling happily to himself. Wearing his kilts always got him “looks” since he and his mom moved to the States but he didn't care. He was an ugly man in a skirt...fuck'em. He would celebrate his being Scottish and they could go fuck a goat for all he cared. 

He stopped for a moment to look in the front window of a local bookstore. The bookstore looked like something he would have found back home in Scotland, filled to the brim with old books. He loved the place and he had a crush on the young woman who worked here. Marianne Summers. He had only ever spoken to her long enough to pay for a purchase but he knew he had it bad for her. He knew she had a boyfriend, some blonde twit who didn't deserve her but of course, Bog didn't deserve her either. 

He was content to admire her from afar. 

He gazed in the window and smiled seeing a couple of books he might have to come pick up when he heard something. 

It had just started to sprinkle, the clouds moving in surprisingly swiftly, the rain quickly coming down harder so he wasn't exactly sure that he heard something. 

He had just turned and was starting to walk away when he heard it again. It sound for all the world like a meow. 

Frowning Bog turned back and went around the corner of the bookstore. He was starting to pretty darn wet and thinking his ears were playing tricks on him when he heard the sound again, closer. He walked the rest of the way down the alley to the dumpster back here and crouched down. 

There was no sound for a long while and he was just about ready to get up and leave when something shot out from under the dumpster and crawled swiftly over his skirted thigh and into his lap. 

Bog nearly jumped, just barely keeping himself from leaping to his feet. He looked down to see a dirty, wet and pitiful looking kitten in to pouched created by his kilt between his legs staring up at him with the bluest kitten eyes he had ever seen. 

It reached up to him with tiny paws. “Meow?”


	21. The Language of Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unedited

The flower-shop was quiet. It was that time between Valentine's Day and Mother's Day where the only people buying flowers were guys who had fucked up badly, people heading to the cemetery, gifts for people with new babies or for weddings. Occasionally someone would come in to buy flowers just because they wanted to give someone special a bouquet...those were the ones that annoyed Bog. They came into his Mom's flower shop all stupid looking with that glazed over look of some fool in love. And they always ordered roses...Bog growled at the stupidity of his fellow males. Love was just a business, cards, flowers, chocolates and jewelry. None of it was real. He should know. 

* 

The day continued to be slow while he sat behind the register, occasionally selling a bouquet. As the afternoon wore on it became quiet. Bog was balanced on a stool behind the counter with paperback novel in his hands. He was completely focused on his novel when he heard the chime over the door ring. 

He glanced up expecting to see some guy in a business suit on his way home to see the missus before heading to spend the night with the mistress running in to buy flowers for the both of them. The asshole...but instead he looked up to see a tiny woman come marching in. Even from his position behind the counter he could see the glint of steel in her eyes. When she got closer to the counter she slammed down twenty dollars and snarled. “How do I passive-aggressively say “Fuck You” in flowers?” 

Bog glanced down at the money in front of them and then back up to the spit-fire who was glaring at him. She was downright beautiful, a term Bog didn't use easily. There were attractive women, pretty women by the loads, but few that he would call outright beautiful, and this one...Wow! 

“Fuck you, hmmm? Okay...” Bog marked his page with a bookmark, picked up the money and motioned for her to follow him into the back. 

She did, pretty much stomping as she followed right behind him. “Okay...” Bog grinned while he led her over to some dead roses and other flowers that looked like molds or fungus of some kind had started to grow on them. “I can give you a dozen of these, in some old brown packing paper and I would recommend getting a dead fish first so I can wrap it with them.” Bog tapped his chin in thought. “Depending on the person, you could also add a box of chocolates that are either melted or picked over...you know like half eaten?” 

The woman grinned. “All that for twenty dollars?” 

“I won't charge you a thing if you let me deliver this.” Bog chuckled handing her back her twenty. The young woman put her hand out to him. “The name is Marianne and you got a deal!” 

Bog took her hand impressed with her grip. “Thank you!” She grinned then took her hand back and snagged a sheet from the set of post-it-notes on the counter and swiftly wrote out an address. She handed it to him with a huge grin. “Thank you again...ah...” 

He smiled. “Bog, the name's Bog.” 

“Thanks again Bog.” She smiled waving at him as she walked out the door. Bog stared at the door realizing he didn't get a phone number or an address. 

Bog grinned to himself and mumbled. “Impressive.” Under his breath. 

Bog picked up the card and grinned. Well, as soon as his mom came in he would go do deliveries, starting with this one. 

* 

When he arrived in front of the apartment building he was impressed. It was a damn nice place. Whoever had pissed her off had money. He got out of the delivery truck, his bouquet of dead and moldy flowers in his hand. He pulled the address out and stared the search. 

He found it rather quickly and was soon knocking on the door. He only had to wait a few seconds when the door was flung open by a very handsome blonde man who Bog immediately wanted to hit in the nose. He had never in his life ran into someone before who instantly caused that reaction but his guy had Bog narrowing his eyes and snarling. “I have a delivery for...” He glanced at the card again. “Roland Knight.” 

The man frowned. “Flowers? For me?” He had a crooked grin. “Well ain't that just sweet.” 

Bog had to control himself not to snicker as he handed over the bouquet. Roland sniffed and looked down, really examining the flower. His face fell and he looked at the delivery guy in shock. “What is this?” 

Bog shrugged. “Sorry sir, its what the young woman ordered.” 

Roland threw the flowers down. “What the fuck is this??!!” He had the nerve to push Bog in the chest. Bog snarled. “Hey now, don't be taking it out on me ya wiggy slice! I only did the delivery! You better be asking yerself what the fuck you did that she hates you so much?” 

“Who are you anyway!?” Roland shoved him again but then time Bog grabbed his hand, twisted Roland's arm behind his back and shoved him. Roland turned swiftly, surprising Bog, his fist hitting him right across the cheek under his left eye. 

Bog snarled and upper cut Roland causing him to stumble backwards into his apartment. Roland screamed. “I'm calling the cops!!” 

“Go ahead ya witless fucking cocksplat!! You can tell'em how ya attacked a guy delivering flowers!” Bog turned and started to storm off as several people had come out at the sound of yelling. Roland, not wanting to look bad to his neighbors and having no idea what the guy had just called him yelled back. “Cock sucker!” 

Bog didn't even turn around as he walked away, he just threw his arm out behind him and gave Roland the finger muttering to himself. 

“Wanker.” 

* 

The next morning Bog was opening the store. He was dressed simply because after his mom came into work later he was going to be working out in the greenhouses, so jeans and a t-shirt were the extent of his look day. He was developing a nasty looking bruise under his eye were the flop had managed to hit him. He wasn't real worried about it. He had suffered a lot worse and it wasn't as if a bruise was going to make him that much uglier than he was already. 

* 

He had just flipped the open sign around on the store front of the shop when there she was, the spit fire standing outside waiting for them to open. He pushed the door open and looked around the door frame at her, a clear question in his blue eyes. 

She grinned at him. “Hey.” 

Bog frowned a little confused at her being there but then he smiled. He couldn't help it! She was so damn pretty with those big brown eyes. “Hey.” 

She pushed her hands into the pockets of her jeans and rocked back and forth on her purple tennis shoes. She was wearing a t-shirt that read “Drum-mer: One who beats things with sticks” in a very complimentary shade of purple. Bog grinned, yeah purple was definitely her color. 

“I heard bout the delivery.” She winced when she saw his face. “Oh wow. I am so sorry.” 

Bog shrugged. “Don't be I was born looking this way.” 

He held the door open for her and she came on in with a soft giggle. 

“I honestly didn't think he would take it out on you like that?” She frowned. 

Bog shrugged. “Don't worry about it. Though I think I might have earned an explanation.” 

Marianne chuckled. “Yeah I suppose you did.” 

Bog pulled an extra stool out from behind the counter and set it next to her with a raised eyebrow. She chuckled again taking the seat and leaning her elbows on the counter. 

“Well, that guy, Roland Knight, well he is my ex-finance...I caught him cheating on me. Then he refused to help pay for all the shit that was spent on the wedding that never happened...he tried to take the ring back....Its a pretty long list of douchery.” She flopped her chin in her hand with a sigh. “It was petty but I was so fucking mad y yesterday...my sister told me to do something creative to channel my aggression...” She grinned at him. 

Bog had taken his stool, leaning on the counter listening, his chin in one large hand. Marianne was impressed. The guy listened. He didn't try to interject with his own words, didn't say at word. His blue eyes remained intent upon her story. It was really...nice. She hadn't realized how use she was to Roland and his need to have attention always on him. 

She smiled thinking to herself Wow...not all guys are self-centered assholes...who knew?! 

Bog nodded then smiled. It was a pleasant smile even with its edge of venom. “I'm not ready to quit sending him “Fuck You” messages if you're not.” 

Marianne's eyes brightened. “What? Seriously?” 

Bog laughed. “Hell yes I am. A stupid fuck like that doesn't bother me. You want to kept sending him messages I will keep delivering them.” 

Marianne laughed and was about to come across the counter and throw her arm around this strange florist when the bell chimed overhead signally someone entering the store. 

She pulled herself back just in time to see a guy step in, pretty short guy with wild dark hair that he wore pulled back in a top knot and decorated with some colorful beads. 

He was dark-skinned and freckled, actually a pretty adorable guy, Marianne thought... 

He was carrying a guitar slung across his back. He waved at Bog then a surprised wave at her when he saw a woman sitting with Bog. “Hey Bog just wanted to let you know I was here and would be setting up out front.” 

Bog returned the wave. “No problem Sunny. Did you learn that song I requested?” 

The younger man laughed and winked. “Sure did buddy.” 

He glanced at Marianne and waved. “oh Hey morning!” 

She gave a wave in return. “Hi!” 

“Okay well I will be up front playing!” Sunny gave a last wave before going back outside. 

Marianne turned and Bog indicated with his head the young man. “That's Sunny. He busks out front most days. He is really good.” 

“That is so cool.” Marianne chirped then pressed her lips together groaning inwardly. God Marianne can you sound any cuter...geez. 

Bog shrugged but then he stood up and crouched down behind the counter. He came back up with a book that he sat on the counter. “Okay, lets see about another bouquet for your ex, maybe include a note this time...in case he's too dense to get your message?” 

Marianne laughed. “you're serious?” 

Bog had laid the book open but he glanced up, his eyes were far bluer than she realized as he laughed. “Yes I'm serious. This guy deserves a little harassment.” 

Marianne grinned. “Okay if you're up for it then so am I!” 

* 

They ended up settling on a bouquet of orange lilies that symbolized hatred according to Bog's book. They were lounging at the counter and Marianne was writing out a card that read “Fuck You” when Bog picked it up and examined her writing. He lifted a brow as he peered at her over the top of the card “What? It's to the point!” She folded her arms over her chest. 

Bog chuckled. “Your handwriting is atrocious.” 

Marianne wrinkled her nose at him and folded her arms over her chest. “Well..fine...you think you can do better?” 

Bog smiled. 

For a moment Marianne was thrown by his smile. She had been here for a least two hours and he had smiled during that time but this time his smile was...sexy...she could see he had slightly crooked teeth, his jaw unshaven...the shirt he was wearing...she hadn't notice earlier, was a athletic cut t-shirt that really highlighted how broad his shoulders were and how slim his waist. 

Marianne felt herself blush so she hid it with a snarl. “Okay let see you write better.” 

Bog chuckled and pulled out a pen from under the counter. It was a calligraphy tipped pen. He snagged a fresh card and leaned down. 

Now, as Marianne watched him, she noticed how long his fingers were...elegant really. The intensity of his face, his long sharp nose, the kissable shape of his lips. Wait...what? 

She could see he has some dirt around the cuticles of his nails and his hands had the rough look of someone that worked with his hands but damn they were really nice hands! 

As she watched him write she was struck by how beautifully he handled the pen, the elegance of his lettering. When he was done she had never seen a more gorgeously written “Fuck You” in all her life. 

“There ya go.” Bog tossed the card in front of her and Marianne frowned picking it up to pretend she was examining it closely. 

“Okay fine you win.” She muttered reluctantly, her cheeks red despite her best efforts to not blush. 

He laughed. “Okay so when would you like these delivered?” 

Marianne tapped her fingers on her chin. “Well, he will be at his gym tomorrow. He never misses going to the gym for anything. That would be perfect. Flowers with a “fuck you” note delivered in front of the “guys.” 

“Okay, gym it is.” Bog slid her a piece of paper to write the address on. 

She did and frowned. “He might punch you again.” 

“Oh don't worry about me. I'll be ready for him this time. He might “try” and punch me.” Bog grinned and he looked for all the world like he had fangs and damn, it was attractive. 

“So how much do I owe you?” Marianne asked tilting her head. 

Bog waved a hand at her. “Don't worry about it.” 

That was when Bog's mother came in through the back of the shop. “Don't worry about what dear?” 

Bog grimaced. “Oh hey Mamm.” 

His mother smiled looking between Marianne and Bog. “So whose this?” 

Marianne put her hand out. “Marianne Summerfield...I...I'm a customer....” 

“Really?” It was clear she didn't quite believe that explanation. Then his mother saw the card. She picked it up and examined it. “Fuck You? Really Bog?” 

Marianne and Bog both blushed. 

“Ah...well...” Bog muttered but Marianne came to his rescue. “That's my fault. Its for my ex-fiance.” 

“Oh...ex-finance...interesting.” His Mamm got that look on her face which Bog knew from years of experience was not “cool.” 

“Mamm....I mean...ah Marianne this is my mother Griselda. This is actually her place I just work for her. And Mamm, Marianne has a real numpty for an ex and well, I delivered some dead flowers for her yesterday and we were discussing continuing to give him shit and well...uh...” 

That was when his mother reached out and snagged her son's chin. “Let me guess, that's how you got that shiner starting there under yer eye?” 

Bog nodded mutely. 

Marianne found herself a little intimated by Bog's mother! The woman was short, with a frizzy redheaded mop of hair, but she exuded an aura of toughness that Marianne could only wish she had! 

“So let me guess, you delivered the dead flowers at no charge and yer going to do it again with the live flowers?” Griselda looked between the two of them. 

“Yeah...” Bog muttered rubbing the back of his neck. 

Marianne flushed looking embarrassed but Griselda grinned. “Okay then. Have fun and Bog, try not to get hit in the face again.” 

Bog's head snapped up and he blinked in surprise at his mother. “Ah...okay Mamm.” 

His mother gave him a sweet smile. “Well I'm here to man the register sweetie. You should show your new friend around the place.” 

Bog hopped up, flushing, he glanced at Marianne. “Ya wanna see the place?” 

She grinned. “Sure!” 

* 

By the time Marianne had left later than afternoon, Bog had ended up showing her all of the garden areas where they grew their own flowers, trees and shrubs. He had showed her the pond where they had Koi fish for visitors to feed. The whole flower ship and the extended outdoor area was designed to not just be a shopping area, but a place where people could enjoy themselves, walking around, smell the flowers...just relax. The place was designed to be an experience...to bring people back. 

Marianne was impressed. 

“You do all the gardening?” She asked as they walked. 

“Well I'm the head of the department but I mean there others here. My cousin Thang and his wife Stuff both work here. There's out big delivery guy Brutus, he usually handles all heavy duty deliverers, like trees, fountains...that sort of thing.” 

Bog tapped his chin. “So ah...what do you do besides send nasty flower bouquets to ex-finances?” 

Marianne laughed, her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “Actually I play drums for a local band most of the time. When I'm not doing that I work at my little sister's shop, Designs by Dawn. She designs her own clothing, usually dresses. She even does wedding dresses. She is super talented.” 

Bog laughed softly. “From the sound of your voice yer very proud of her.” 

She nodded. “Yes I am.” 

“Well...”Bog sighed. “I don't have any siblings. Only child. I always figured I was so ugly its cared my Mam from having any more children” He chuckled. 

Marianne smacked his arm light. “Hey, you're not ugly.” 

Bog blushed glancing at his feet. 

He was actually enjoying himself. Marianne was easy to talk to, he was actually enjoying her company, something he usually didn't do...enjoy the company of other people. He knew he probably needed to get back to work but he really wanted to keep talking to her. 

Bog had a whole area where he needed to do some digging, planting, weeding flower beds and borders plus he needed to apply some nutrients to a handful of plants and check the moisture levels of an entire greenhouse. Bog wasn't a simple gardener, he was a master gardener with a certificate as well as a master degree in horticulture. 

Not that someone as gorgeous and well...as cool...as Marianne Summerfield would be interested in an ugly gardener. 

“I probably should get back to work but...ah..Yeah I'll deliver yer flowers tomorrow.” Bog smiled at her and Marianne felt her heart speed up. He had a cute smile. 

She knew she was blushing as she murmured. “Ah...yeah Okay, thanks Bog. I'll see you tomorrow.” 

She smiled and walked off, resisting the urge to face palm herself. Could she sound more stupid? 

She had already thought about showing up tomorrow....just sort of causally appearing at the shop to see how the deliver went. She hadn't wanted him to know it was going to be deliberate!! Now she looked like a complete idiot!! 

But she kept going, nothing to do for it but run! 

Bog watched her leave blinking like a deer in headlights, had she said she would see him tomorrow? 

Marianne got about three steps when she suddenly had an even better idea....she turned around. Bog blinked in embarrassment because he was still standing there watching her. 

“Hey Bog? My band is playing tonight at Puck's....ah...you wanna come watch me play?” 

Marianne shoved her hands in the back pockets of her jeans again trying to look casual. 

It took a few moments for Bog's brain to catch up with Marianne's words. “Ah...sure!” 

Marianne grinned. “Cool...ah...when you get to the door just tell the guy there, Mark that Marianne has a ticket for you.” 

Bog nodded. “Yeah sure, what time?” 

“Doors open at 8pm.” She smiled pressing her lips together. “See you tonight.” 

She turned and hurried off. 

Bog watched her go his brain catching up a little....did he get asked out?


	22. Nightclub

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was going to be rated E. Its a Halloween prompt I just gave up on. It's completely unedited and there is some missing parts at the end. This is a first draft so there is no having gone over it, no fine tuning...nothing...just what I wrote straight from my head.  
> So read at your own risk.

The music was pumping loud and heavy as Marianne walked in the front door of The Dark Forest nightclub and bar. Her favorite hunting ground. Clubs were easy because peoples inhibitions were down. She could find a couple of dance partners, take a nip here, a nip there, draining no one. Her partners only remembered a great dance and a terrific kiss. After that their memorizes were fuzzy. They had no idea who they had danced with, what had passed between them...nothing. 

Marianne smiled, tonight was going to be another easy night of feeding. It was Halloween night and the place was packed with costumed dancers. She glanced around looking for her first victim...sorry dance partner she told herself when she saw a man at the bar. At first her eyes started to move away but they came right back to the man mixing drinks. 

He was tall, very tall and thin, almost too thin but that was deceptive, she could see that it was the way his clothing hung on him that made him look so thin but that there were actually muscles underneath that shirt, lean wiry muscles. 

She turned fully around to study him. His black hair was sweep back from his sharp-featured face, he had a long pointed nose, heavy brows, a long, sharp chin and sensual lips. She found herself immediately attracted to him, which was completely against her policy. Never bite anyone she found attractive, that could only lead to trouble, yet she was walking toward him as if pulled by an invisible force. 

She took a seat right in front of him. He didn't look up right away, he simply said. “What can I get you?” 

Oh...Scottish...she smiled. Then he finally looked up at her when she didn't answer right away. Marianne felt something hit her at the sight of those blue eyes. They were the most emotional eyes...his souls laid bare in those eyes. 

* 

Bog was tired. The music was giving him a headache tonight and as usual people were being stupid. He had already had to cut off three people, one of them he had to grab by the front of his shirt and haul him over to the bouncers himself. If he was going to play bartender and bouncer he should get paid for it. 

But for now his attention was diverted, he was staring at this woman in front of him. 

Bog was never struck dumb. He always had something to say but staring at this beautiful woman he suddenly lost the ability to speak. 

She smiled slowly. “Hello.” 

Bog swallowed hard on the lump in his throat. 

“Hello.” He shook himself. “Ah yes, what can I get you?” 

She smiled again her eyes roamed over him and Bog suddenly felt naked. 

“Ah, White Russian tonight.” She gave him the most sensual smile. 

Bog nodded. “White Russian it is.” 

She leaned on her elbow resting her chin in her hand while she watched him work. The man was graceful moving with the ease of someone who did this a great deal. 

He set the drink down in front of her with a shy smile. Marianne picked up the drink and took a sip a grin on her face. “That's very good.” 

The man gave a little bow from the waist. 

“You are very welcome.” 

She laughed putting her hand out to him. “I'm Marianne.” 

Bog blushed taking her extended hand in his. “Bog.” 

“That's an unusual name.” She tilting her head. 

“Long story.” he laughed with only a little embarrassment. 

Marianne was smitten, that accent, that smile, those eyes and that body. She was about to say something else when Bog was called by another customer. He smiled at her with a shrug. 

Suddenly hunting was the last thing on Marianne's mind, all she wanted to do was watch this man work and talk to him. 

* 

Marianne ended up sitting at the bar the entire evening, talking with Bog as he worked. They managed to discussed Scotland between the making of two expresso martinis and why he was in American while he mixed up a platter of ginger apple drinks...they talked about what she did for fun, her favorite music, how much she loved dancing and fencing while he set about mixing a trio of classic old fashions. Marianne learned that Bog knew a little fencing and actually liked singing while he made a set of Lover and Dreamers drinks. 

Never in all her long life had she met someone as attractive and interesting to her as Mr. Bog King, current bartender for the Dark Forest Club 

When Bog took his break he actually came around to sit on the stood next to him. He sipped on a glass of milk. Marianne found that not only was he smart, but he was adorable. She enjoyed watching this rough, tough looking, extremely attractive man work and talking to him was the best conversation she had had in decades. 

Now what was she going to do? 

* 

On his second break Marianne convinced Bog to dance with her. 

He frowned. “I don't usual dance on my breaks.” 

She smiled and Bog felt all resistance fade away. “Ah...okay.” 

“Good!” She laughed taking his hand and tugging him out onto the dance floor. She immediately started moving. Bog surprised her as he began to dance with her. The man could move, he was naturally graceful. He took her hands pulling her close, pressing her body against his while he smiled that adorable smile down at her. He spun her around then pulled her back again making her laugh. He made her feel young and alive while they laughed and danced. 

Marianne was spun around and came in a little too quickly slamming into Bog's chest. She stared up at him. He was so handsome the dancing light flashed across the blue eyes. 

Bog stared down at her and suddenly felt brave as he asked. “Can I kiss you?” 

Marianne nodded numbly. “Yeah.” 

Bog stroked a finger along her jaw, gradually tilting her face up. He stared into her eyes for several heartbeats before he leaned down to take her lips. 

Marianne's hands glided along his chest, the fabric of his shirt was thin beneath her fingers. She could feel the heat of him through the cloth, the burn of his blood. She wanted him. Not just for a bite...oh no...she WANTED him... 

When his tongue slowly stroked her lips she thought she would melt right then. The kiss was passionate but it was also tender. Marianne made up her mind right then, she was going home with him if he would have her. 

He sucked gently on her bottom lip before he leaned his forehead against hers and whispered. 

“Would you want to come home with me tonight?” 

Marianne smiled. “Oh yes.” 

* 

It was 4 a.m before Bog got off work. Marianne waited for him sitting at the bar. 

Just before they were closing she stepped outside to wait for him. She loved this time of year, the darkness lasted longer. It was colder outside, much colder than when she had come inside but she didn't really worry about the cold. She didn't feel the cold the same way anymore. 

Bog came out the back doors sliding his arms through his jacket as he did so. He grinned when he saw her waiting for him. 

“Hey aren't you cold?” 

Marianne looked at herself. She was wearing a dress that was such a deep purple that it almost looked black, tight, short and sleeveless. 

She blushed. “A little.” 

Bog immediately pulled off his jacket putting it around her shoulders. 

“I'm just over this way.” Bog pointed. 

Marianne reached out and took his hand with a smile. 

Bog squeezed her hand unsure of what he was doing. He had never taken a strange woman home from work. It wasn't like he was given a lot of opportunities, but he had never thought of himself as that type of guy. But here he was with a gorgeous woman holding his hand coming to spend the night with him. Bog swallowed. He wasn't sure what gods were watching out for him but he had to thank someone for tonight. Not only was she beautiful, but she was funny, smart, talented...seemed to like nearly everything he did...someone he could actually talk to...someone he could really fall for....though if he was honest he was probably halfway in love with her already. 

* 

When they arrived at his apartment building Marianne couldn't wait any longer. They had talked a little, he was clearly nervous. But then he had done the damnedest thing and had started to sing softly under his breath to the song that was playing.. His voice was like whiskey, warm, mellow with that rough edge to it that had her whole body on fire with want...with need...she needed him. 

When he turned off the car Marianne unbuckled and particularly threw herself at him. 

Bog barely had enough time to turn and catch her before her mouth was hungrily devouring his with passionate kisses, her tongue didn't simply slide into his mouth, she was an invasion force that he simply surrendered to... 

Marianne took a few minutes to climb over into the backseat after her “attack” kiss, hauling Bog with her. She pinned him to the seat climbing on top of him, her hands desperate to touch his skin. She yanked his shirt up, running the flat of her hands up his stomach to his chest popping the buttons on his work shirt as she did...no sooner did 

she have his shirt open than she started to attack his chest and stomach with sucking kisses. 

Bog groaned unsure what he was suppose to be doing. Never in his life had a woman attacked him like this... 

When she started to pull at his pants though he reached down grabbing her hands. 

“Slower, we're in no rush are we?” He asked, his voice gentle. 

Marianne looked into those blue eyes of his and smiled embarrassed. “Sorry...no, no hurry.” 

He gently tugged her up for a kiss, his hands softly caressing her hair. “Are you sure you want to do this is the backseat of my car?” 

Marianne laughed. “You have a nice bed?” 

Bog grinned. “I do.” 

“Then lets go.” She giggled. 

* 

It was colder with his shirt in ruins but he got them into his apartment and flipped a light on heading over to turn the thermostat up. 

Marianne removed his jacket, looking around. His apartment was nice and simple, with a couple of large bookcases stuffed full of books, well-worn furniture that was taken care of, a clean kitchen and pictures of Scottish castles and landscapes on the wall. She saw a guitar in the corner, a nice stereo system, TV, and a game system. 

“Your place is nice.” She took her heels off as she walked further inside. 

“Thanks.” Bog smiled. “Can I get you a drink, something to eat? Anything?” 

Marianne slunk over to him taking the loose ends of his shirt and tugged him closer. 

“You can show me your bedroom.” She purred, leaning down to lick his chest. 

Bog shivered. “Ah...okay.” 

She gave him a smile that had goosebumps racing along his skin. Bog took her hand and lead her down the small hall where there were two rooms, one room from the glance she got, showed that it had been made into a study. Bog turned right opening and door and stepped inside. 

Bog's bedroom was like the rest of this apartment, clean and simple. The bed was not huge but it was big enough for a man of his size and maybe one other person. The colors here were warm, dark browns and beige, a comfortable space. This room was also filled with books, the man clearly enjoyed reading. There were a few other more personal touches in here, a picture that looked to be family. Some clothing tossed across a chair...a shelf with a couple of statues on it that she couldn't quite see... 

“Here we are.” Bog through a hand out nervously. 

Marianne smiled. “It's nice.” 

Bog blushed shrugging. Marianne stepped toward him running her hands down his chest. 

“Let's get undressed.” she whispered. 

Bog nodded looking unsure what to do. Marianne reached up and rolled his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms the whole while kissing and nipping at his chest. He closed his eyes simply enjoying the sensation of her mouth on him. He let her undo his pants, slipping the belt off to drop it to the floor. Her fingers moved delft, the button and zipper quickly undone. Her fingers caressed his skin, sliding under the edge of his pants just before she pushed them down, the slacks falling to his feet. 

Marianne ran her hands along the planes of his stomach, resting her chin on his chest gazing up at him. “you are a beautiful man.” she murmured. 

Bog swallowed. “You think so?” He seemed genuinely confused. Marianne frowned. How could he not see himself the way she did? 

She took a step back from him and with one easy movement her dress had slipped from her shoulders to land at her feet. 

She was completely naked underneath. 

Bog blinked, suddenly unable to talk. She gave him a coy smile, a crook of her finger before she crawled onto his bed. 

Bog stood there unmoving, just staring at her for a moment he was pretty sure this was a dream...damn realistic dream...but a dream still. 

Marianne tilted her head. “Aren't you going to join me?” 

“Ah yeah sure.” He finished undressing, kicking his shoes to the side and tosses his slacks and boxers on top of them. 

Marianne held her hand out to him and he reached for her letting her draw him toward the bed and her. 

Marianne hunger spike for a moment but her lust, her desire for Bog overrode the need to feed with another need. She guided him on top of her and wrapped her arms around his neck tugging him toward her. Her mouth found his and she kissed him. 

As he pressed his naked body against hers Marianne luxuriated in the warmth of his flesh, the slightly coarse feel of the hair on his chest against her bare breasts. 

Bog wrapped his hands under her cradling her head. His mouth moved over hers, their tongues twisting and sliding in a soft, wet dance. He knew at that moment he could spend a lifetime kissing this woman and it would never be enough. 

He pressed between her legs, his erection already hard and aching but he didn't want to rush this gift...this night with this fanatic woman. If he could make this moment last then he would draw their love-making out for as long as possible. 

He reluctantly pulled away from her lips, nipping her chin and gliding his body down hers. Bog's tongue drew a damp line along her jaw, tracing the arch of her neck. He bit her softly, a lover's nibble, just painful enough to excite. Marianne arched, her fangs elongating despite her best effort to keep them back but his mouth on her throat send shivers of sensation along her spine and deeper. 

When his tongue lavished her breasts, licking and sucking Marianne nearly came off the bed. He teased the nipples of each breast with tongue and teeth, focusing on one, then the others. He squeezed them gently flicking the tip of his tongue over the harden nipple, dragging his fingertips of his free hand down her stomach, stopping briefly at the patch of curling hair to caress, threading his fingers through the hair and squeezing gently. Marianne whined at his touch, his teasing. She could feel him smile against her breast which made her laugh, for a shy man he knew what he was doing. 

His fingers hovered just at the top of her folds, not quite touching...She groaned arching her hips wishing he would touch her! He kept his focus on her breasts suckling one then the other sending tremors of sensation rippling over her body and pooling in her groin. She wanted to cry, to yell for him to touch her! 

“Bog! Uhh....” His teeth barely brushed over her nipple but it was enough to make her come. Marianne cried out, her hips jerking while her orgasm spread. That was when he chose to touch her. Long fingers slid furthers finally parting her folds and touching her. 

Marianne yelled. “Yes!” 

She felt that smile of his against her skin but then her mind exploded when his fingers dipped into her. She was so sensitive, so on fire that the simple gesture of his finger sliding into her had her coming again. 

Bog grinned, it pleased him to no end that he was making her happy, feeling her climax turned him on so much that he was actually aching. He moved his finger in and out slowly adding another finger when he felt she was ready. She was so warm, wet, and soft under his touch. He continued to move his fingers, his thumb stroking her clitoris slowly, small circles while he ran his tongue over her hard nipples. 

“Bog, oh Bog please I want you...” Marianne begged. Her hands ran through his hair and along his shoulders. He didn't answer her right away, she only felt the slow thrusts of his fingers, the maddening circling of his thumb and the sweet, smooth licks of his tongue. She closed her eyes arching her back on another orgasm when he finally pulled his fingers away from her. 

Bog rose up on his arms, shifting his position to press himself between her legs. She could feel the hot presence of his shaft against her warm wetness. She had never wanted anyone like this, like she wanted Bog. 

He rose up over her, his hands on either side of her head looking down on her with not just lust but with something more. For a moment she was scared. Not for her safety, no, for her heart. Looking up into those intense blue eyes, his soul laid bare, she knew she would fall for him, easily. 

“Are you ready?” Bog asked, his voice was deeper, lust giving it that edge of a growl. 

“Oh yes..yes...” Marianne moaned. 

He shifted his weight to one hand, teasing her then slowly he thrust into her with a low hissed groan. “Oh fuck....” Marianne watched his eyes roll and his whole body tense. Her felt the same way. She groan digging her fingers into his shoulders the feeling of him filling her was beyond words...she couldn't think, she could only feel. Her gasping breaths of pleasure mixed with his own. When Bog started to move she thought she would cry it felt so good. 

(fill in the details) 

“Are you going to kill me after this?” Bog's voice was still warm but the words were like a slap bring her temporarily out of her lust-filled haze. 

“What?” Marianne looked up at him in shock. 

“Are you planning on killing me?” Bog asked. He didn't seem upset or angry. He was simply asking a question. 

“No...I don't understand. Why would you even ask that?” Marianne asked in confusion. 

“I know what you are, I've known since the moment you sat that at the bar. You're a vampire.” Bog smiled at her softly. 

“But..I...what?” Marianne pushed herself up. 

Bog sat back on his knees. “I knew the moment you sat down at the bar.” 

“But...how?” Marianne decided to be trustful, if he knew why deny it? 

He shrugged. “You're not the first one I've met. Long story.” 

Marianne frowned. “I'm not going to kill you...I just...I just wanted to be with you.” 

Bog flushed. “Really?” 

Marianne smiled. “Yes really.” He was quiet for a moment then grinned. Oh yes, she was falling in love with that grin....or had she already fallen? He smiled. “Well then...” Bog ran his fingers along her jaw drawing her to him for another kiss. Marianne laughed against his lips. Oh she had so many questions...but they could wait...right now she wanted him.


	23. Middleearth tattoo

Marianne sat with the chair flipped around, her head resting on her chin as she leaned on the back of the seat. She watched as Bog sat in a chair getting another tattoo, which she found enjoyable to watch. He sat on the edge of the tattooist's chair with his arms resting on his knees as the man tattooed a line of symbols down Bog's spine. 

Marianne grinned. She liked when Bog was shirtless. He was deliciously sexy with his long lean figure. Even now that they had been a couple for a while, he still blushed whenever he was naked in front of her, which was one of the things she adored about him. He still clearly felt awkward at times, even around his girlfriend. Which was just...well...adorable!! Since in bed he was anything but awkward...the man knew how to make love and he did it exceptionally well. Marianne shivered with delight at the thought. 

Bog frowned at her. She hadn't noticed he had turned his head to the side to look at her. 

“What are ye thinking about, tough girl?” Bog asked with a slight grin on his lips. 

Marianne giggled. “Nothing. Hey, I think I figured out what those symbols are on your back.” 

Bog grinned. “Oh, the ones getting tattooed now? The ones I said that if you didn't figure out we could no longer go out together? Those symbols?” 

Marianne gave him a sour face. “Yes, those symbols.” 

Bog smiled at her as the tattoo artist chuckled at the two of them. “So what are they?” 

“They're from Lord of the Rings, they're elven runes right?” 

Bog stared at her with those gorgeous blue eyes of his...those eyes that could look at her with such a mixture of love and lust that it made her whole body feel as if she were on fire. Then he spoke with that slight accent that ran up and down her spine in the most delicious way. 

“I don’t know what you’re Tolkien about...” 

Marianne stared at him, her mouth dropping open slightly. 

The tattooist snorted, choking on a laugh. 

Marianne pressed her lips together. “That's it, we can't be lovers anymore.” 

Bog started to laugh, which made the tattooist start laughing. 

Marianne snorted. “You're both juvenile.”


	24. Hot Teacher (or I never had a title)

Sunny glanced side ways at Dawn then let out a forlorn sigh. Sunny had been in love with his best friend Dawn since they were in third grade together. Now they were seniors in high school. This was their first day of their senior year. Sunny figured that gave him at least six months to work up the nerve to ask her to prom, maybe eight. He was worried about his chances of getting to her before a better looking guy asked her out. Of course none of them may have a chance at all judging by the way she was gazing at the new science teacher, Mr. King. 

Mr. King was tall, as thin as a shadow, and a little scary looking. He had a long pointed nose where his glasses sat in such a way that he could easily glare over the top of them. And boy did Mr. King have a glare! Sunny figured Mr. King could freeze a student in their tracks with that look. Mr. King's eyes were like....a weird blue. Too blue if that was possible, but Dawn seemed to like them. 

Sunny sighed for probably the millionth time since sitting down in class and seeing Dawn staring at the science teacher. Science was their last class of the day and Mr. King was giving out their assignments when he happened to glance out the window. Mr. King suddenly stopped moving. The whole class watched him, looking at each other in confusion. 

Mr. King hadn't realized that he had stopped talking or moving. He simply stared out the window, his mouth had fallen open and his eyes had taken on a sort of glazed look. All the students frowned at Mr. King then followed his gaze out the window. Dawn grinned when she saw Marianne walking across the lawn Marianne was her big sister working on her second year in college. She came by every afternoon to give Dawn a ride home from school. Dawn glanced back at Mr. King and her crush instantly dissolved as suddenly the idea of setting up her teacher and her sister started to turn into a plan. 

* 

Marianne was waiting outside for Dawn. She was sitting under her favorite tree. She used to sit out here as much as possible when she went to school here. Marianne leaned back against the bark of the tree gazing up into the canopy of leaves. They were slowly beginning the change from brilliant summer green to the intense burn of autumn yellow. She smiled, her favorite season. For a moment she closed her eyes letting her mind wander...


	25. Powder AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought it might be a good idea, then realized it probably wasn't. (AU based on the movie Powder) Unedited.

Griselda drove up to the old farm out frowning when she saw the sheriff's car but that there were at least two other police vehicles around the old home. The house had once been grand in its hay day, a two story Victorian with a wraparound porch but Griselda knew after old man King's wife passed, he had started letting the house and surrounding gardens go...letting the weeds and decay take over. The only reason the surrounding farm land was still in such good shape was became he rented out the land. 

Griselda drove her old beat up red Ford pickup around the side and parked before hoping out. 

She was the local doctor, the only one within miles of this little town of Dark Wood. Sometimes she was the vet as well, taking care of anyone and everyone who took ill in this town. 

The sheriff, Mr. Summerfield, had called her out here to report old man King's death but he had said they needed her out here but he refused to say why. When she asked if King had died unnaturally Summerfield had assured her, the old man had died of natural causes but that was all he would say. 

So here she was in the early morning hours on this Sunday morning. 

Griselda wasn't dressed like a doctor, her wild, curling red hair was worn free and loose and she preferred overalls to a doctors slacks and lab coat. She had on her working boots, the same pair she wore when she went out to examine cows or a broken leg on some damn fool kid riding his skateboard down the road too fast. 

As she walked up on the porch sheriff Summerfield came out to greet her. He tipped his cowboy hat, showing off the thick locks of blonde hair, the easy smile and green eyes. The hat was the same one he had worn as along as Griselda had known him. Summerfield looked grim and confused. 

“Come on it, glad you come make it.” He turned walking back into the house. Summerfield was head and shoulders taller than Griselda, like most people were, but he had a presence about him, probably what made him a good sheriff. 

She followed him in passing one of the deputies, a tall then young man with a mop of brown hair and mud colored eyes, who muttered. “I can heard him moving around down there sheriff!” 

“You didn't go down there did you??” Summerfield turned his blue eyes on his deputy ready to rip him a new one. 

“No sir I didn't!! I ain't crazy!” The deputy hurried outside. 

Summerfield shook his blonde hair. “Idiot. Don't know why I hired him.” 

Summerfield continued. “We got a call from one of the neighbors about old man King's death. They hadn't seen him on his porch so they came to check on him. Found him on the floor in the kitchen. Anyone, the kid is his grandson as near as we can figure...” 

Griselda listened as they walked into the kitchen. She could see the reminds of spilled coffee across the floor, a coffee cup having rolled under the table. 

“Coroner says it was a heart attack.” Summerfield muttered. 

“So why am I here?” Griselda asked. “I mean if the man is dead...” 

Summerfield pointed at a hold in the floor, a trap door that lead into a basement. “Down there is the man's grandson. He won't come out of the basement and he didn't report his grandfather's death.” 

Griselda frowned looking at the trap door. It was barely big enough for someone to get through. 

She walked closer. 

“Neighbors say he is touched in the head..ya know...” He dropped his voice to a whisper knowing he was using a word that was unpopular to hear, incorrect politically as he hissed. “Retard.” He frowned at his word choice but continued. “They think he is a monster, Ain't no body had a good look at the boy, ever.” 

Griselda frowned. “What are you saying?” 

“I'm saying he's touched...strange...he don't look like other people.” Summerfield hissed low. 

Griselda frowned. “He's just a boy right?” 

“Well, yeah.” Summerfield frowned.


	26. Thang's love story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one I thought was a good idea but then realized it probably wasn't...also unedited.

The day was perfect. 

Grey, rainy the mud squishing between his toes was so much fun! He was grinning as he walked along enjoying the rain holding the gift he had from Stuff gently in his hands so that he would not accidentally break it. He had a perfect stone. It was polished stone the color of a midnight sky. It made him think of her eyes and when he found it he immediately thought about giving it to her as a gift. He was so happy until he saw something that made him stop dead in his tracks. 

There was Stuff. She was looking so beautiful, her greenish skin shining in the rain, her smiling face and her beady eyes bright. 

She was talking to another goblin...Thang wracked his brain trying to remember his name...Oh yeah! It was that jerk Toes. Thang hated Toes because he knew the jerk was after Stuff. Toes was taller than Stuff, built like Brutus but he was mean. He had picked on Thang for as long as Thang could remember. It had gotten worse when Thang had started the job as BK's messenger. But Thang never complained. 

But now Toes was romancing Stuff! 

As Thang watched Toes hand her a bouquet of pawpaw flowers! Thang's bottom lip trembled as he watched Stuff take the flowers and smile. He turned around and slowly walked back the way he had come, the rain suddenly not nearly as fun as it had been only moments ago. 

Thang knew he wasn't handsome, he was short, and ugly....he sighed. Of course Stuff would like Toes. He was big and handsome and strong...Thang's bottom lip quivered again. Who could he talk to about romance? How could he win Stuff's heart? BK! That's who! 

* 

Stuff walked back to her room with the pawpaw flowers She rolled her eyes. Toes was such an idiot. Why on earth would he think she would have anything to do with him? He was such a leach! All the girls knew it! Stuff sighed heavily tossing the flowers off one of the walk ways where they floated down hitting the top of the stream that flowed pass the castle and drifted away. She had been waiting and waiting on Thang to make some sort of move...ask her out, give her flowers...say something romantic! Anything! But Thang seemed to have gotten more and more tongue-tied around her lately and she didn't know what to do. She decided that the best person for her to talk to was Queen Marianne. 

* 

The next day Thang waited patiently for BK to run through the morning session of hearing requests and complaints. Queen Marianne was sitting next to him, their baby daughter in her arms.


End file.
